Locked In A Loveless Marriage
by LoveEpicLove
Summary: When Elena asks Damon Salvatore for a loan, he agrees on the condition that she marries him. What happens when she finds herself falling in love with a man who has told her he will never love her? AU. All human.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so I woke up with this thought in my mind this morning; what would happen if Elena had to marry Damon for some reason? I think I'm dreaming about those two every night at the moment. Anyway, I'm a hopeless romantic and I have hundreds of _Mills & Boon_ on my bookshelf, and I thought I might try and write the Mills & Boon version of Delena. I'm talking about the 1990s _Sexy_ style of Mills & Boon. For this story, let's say Elena is twenty-three years of age, Stefan is twenty-five, and Damon is thirty.

* * *

**Locked In A Loveless Marriage  
**

**Chapter 1**

"Miss Gilbert,"

Elena looked up from her chair to look at the pretty blond receptionist.

"Mr Salvatore will see you now."

Elena wiped her damp palms on her skirt and took a deep breath in, before following the secretary to Damon Salvatore's office.

As the secretary opened the double doors, Elena knew it was too late to turn around now. Not that she could turn around. She didn't want to ask Damon for help, but there was nothing else she could do; no-one else she could turn to. Stefan would be mad at her if he knew she had gone to his brother, but Stefan couldn't help her with this. Damon owned the company, and it would have to be Damon that helped her.

"Mr Salvatore," the secretary announced, "Miss Gilbert is here to see you,"

His eyes flicked upwards and rested on Elena's face for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the papers in front of him. If he was surprised that she was here to see him, he certainly didn't show it.

"Thank you Nicole, that will be all."

Nicole left, closing the doors behind her. Elena stood there in the large room, unsure whether she should take a seat across from him, or wait to be invited to sit down. She waited for a moment, but when he said nothing, she decided to take a seat.

Did he have any idea why she was here? She was trying to be patient now, but she wanted to get this conversation over with. There was something disturbing about Stefan's older brother; something she couldn't quite put her finger on. For some reason he made her feel nervous, unsure of herself.

On more than one occasion she'd had the distinct impression that he did not like her very much. She couldn't recount any incidence where she might have given him a reason to dislike her, but maybe it was just because she was Stefan's girlfriend. She knew there was a history between the two brothers; she just didn't know what that history was.

Sitting this close to him, it was impossible not to notice how handsome he really was. Stefan was handsome, in a conventional sort of way. Damon was more the dark and dangerous type. When Damon Salvatore walked into the room, people stopped and took notice. He had an air of authority that couldn't be denied, and the way he filled out his _Armani_ suit normally had the ladies swooning.

The papers referred to him as, Damon Salvatore – The Billionaire Playboy. He worked hard, but played harder. She'd seen photos of him out on the town with one woman after another. Lately though it had just been one woman – Caroline Forbes; a former beauty pageant winner.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a matter of minutes, he looked at her.

"Elena, to what do I owe this pleasure? Is Stefan alright?"

"Yes, Stefan is fine. It's...I have a personal favor to ask of you."

Damn it, her hands were growing damp again. He had to help her, surely he would help her.

"A personal favor," he said to her, leaning back in his chair and giving her his undivided attention, "now I am intrigued."

"My family is in some trouble. You might have seen an article in the paper about it." She looked up to see him nodding. Of course he would have heard about it. "It would seem as though we are going to lose everything."

She heard her voice wobble slightly, and shut her eyes tightly to stop any tears from forming. She had already cried enough and here was not the place for her to have another breakdown.

"Does Stefan know you're here?"

"No," Elena told him, "he wouldn't be happy I'm coming to you with this but…,"

"But?"

"He's not in a position to help us. Not like you are."

"What is it you would like me to do?"

Elena swallowed, unable to stop fidgeting with the trim on her skirt. She hated asking him for help. If her father knew she was here he would die, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I thought you might be able to help us with a loan of some kind. I know my father can make up the money we've lost. I know we can get things back on track, we just need the chance to do that."

"Elena, do you have any idea just how much trouble your father's business is in?"

"Yes,"

"Then we're talking about a very large sum of money."

She nodded. She knew it was crazy to ask, but she had no choice. Without Damon's help, her family would be ruined, and not just financially. As it was her father had started his day long binge drinking sessions again; her mother was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Jeremy was running up gambling debts, trying to win back their money. She was watching her family fall to pieces in front of her and she couldn't allow it. She had to do something.

Stefan wanted to help her, but he hadn't the money or position to offer it to her. She'd met Stefan at a fund raising event a year ago and it had been love at first sight. She was hoping that he might propose to her sometime soon. Maybe Damon would see this as an opportunity to help out his future sister-in-law.

"I wouldn't ask, but there is no-one else."

"So I am your last lifeline then?" he asked her.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Damon, I wouldn't have come to you if there was another option. I know I'm asking you for a lot, but I have to ask. We will pay every cent back, once we get the money back."

"What if you don't get the money back, Elena? What happens if I loan you this money and it makes no difference?"

"Then I'll come up with some other form of payment."

His eyes widened a little, and she reddened. She hadn't meant it to sound like that.

"I mean, there must be some way to repay you, I'll work in your company, be your personal assistant, be your maid. I'll do anything. I promise you that I will find a way to repay the debt."

"We're talking about a huge loan and I don't need a maid, or an assistant or another employee, I already have those."

"There must be something you need."

Again she blushed at the words coming out of her mouth and he smirked.

"No, I get plenty of that," he told her.

She was feeling far too hot. She could only imagine how many women he'd slept with.

"Of course, I didn't mean to insinuate…I just mean there must be something you don't have. Something you want."

Damon stared at the beauty before him, and wondered what she would say if he told her the only thing he wanted was her. He knew she was madly in love with his idiot brother, but she was only going to end up with a broken heart dating him. Stefan was the true playboy of the family and Damon had caught him with his pants down on more than one occasion whilst he was supposedly with Elena.

His brother was a prat. He only put up with him because his father had made Damon promise to look after him. Stefan got himself into trouble and Damon had to get him out of it. His parents had spoiled Stefan and coddled him and now he had Elena too. Stefan got everything he wanted, even Katherine.

Damon inwardly shuddered as he remembered the day he'd found Stefan and Katherine in bed together. He'd just been out ring shopping and had planned on proposing to Katherine that night. Needless to say when he'd found Katherine with her legs wrapped around his brother, he'd decided against it.

That day he'd realized that love was for fools. It wasn't worth it. And as for his brother, well he pretended for the most part that he didn't have one of those. He'd given him a job in the company, he'd get him out of trouble if he needed it, but that was it.

When Damon had first met Elena, he'd been mad with jealousy to begin with. Here was this wonderful, warm and caring woman, and she loved Stefan. He had wanted to warn her off Stefan, but it was her choice and he knew she wouldn't have listened to him anyway. So most of the time he ended up trying to avoid her.

Now she was here and she wanted his help. She was offering him anything. Well he had no need for love, didn't want any part of it; but he did want her. He wanted her in his bed and by his side and he saw his opportunity to take that now. Was it just to get revenge on his brother? No, though that would be a nice little side effect. Elena had passion and beauty; she was caring and nurturing, and lately he'd decided that he wanted a family. He wanted a wife.

He was tired of the constant merry-go-round of dating. He had need for someone to slake his lust and to entertain his investors, and travel with him. He wondered how amenable she would be to the idea.

"There is one thing that I would like," he said to her slowly.

"Anything," she told him, "I'll do anything."

"I wouldn't agree too quickly," he warned her. "You may want to think this over first. I don't believe in love and happy ever after, however, it has been brought to my attention that a…wife could be useful to me. It helps with the business side of things. Often I'm in need of someone to travel with me or to entertain associates."

Elena felt all the air leave her lungs. A wife. He wanted a wife? And did he just say he didn't believe in love?

"Are you serious?" she asked him.

He laughed lightly.

"I can see that I've surprised you. That is my offer, however. Take a day or two, think it over and let me know."

He was talking about marriage so casually, as if it was nothing but a convenience.

"That's the only thing you want?"

He had to be joking. What about Stefan? What would Stefan think? She'd been hoping to marry Stefan one day, not Damon.

"Yep, that's it," he told her.

"But I don't love you," she told him. "Surely you don't believe in marriage without love."

"Love is for people that want to lose themselves in another person, and don't care about losing control over their emotions."

"Is that what you think? That love is for people who are weak?"

"Ah, I didn't use the word weak, you did. But I do believe that love is something that I can do without."

"So if we get married, you're saying that love wouldn't be part of the equation?"

"Correct. I was in love once; it ended badly to say the least. I've no desire to repeat that."

She shook her head. He was just giving up on love so easily. It saddened her to think that he would go through his life not loving someone. Whoever had done this to him was a real piece of work.

"I rarely see you without female company, why don't you ask someone else to marry you. In fact, aren't you seeing Caroline Forbes at the moment?"

"We've been seeing each other, but lately she's wanted more that I'm able to give her."

"You mean like love?" she asked him.

"Yes," he returned quickly.

"What makes you think our marriage would be any different? What if I fall in love with you or you fall in love with me?"

"I'm not going to fall in love with you, Elena, just so we're clear. And you'd do well not to let yourself fall in love with me. We would have an understanding."

"What about Stefan?"

"Ah, Stefan. I would expect you to keep this deal between the two of us."

"As if I'd dream of telling him about your suggestion. He'd be horrified."

"Tell him you had a change of heart and you realize I am the more superior brother."

He smiled at her again. It was obvious he had no regard for his brother's feelings.

"This is ridiculous; insane. I can't just dump Stefan and marry you. What would everyone say?"

Damon waved a hand as if to shoe the matter away.

"I have money; people will say what I tell them to say."

She was torn. On one hand she knew he was her salvation, her family's way out, and on the other she couldn't imagine being married to him, of giving up Stefan.

"I'll even sweeten the deal for you," he said to her now. "If you agree to become my wife, the money won't be a loan; it will be a gift to your parents for the bride I'll be receiving. In return I want an heir, someone to take over from me when I want to retire."

Effectively he would be buying her services. He was likening her to common prostitute. Yet, his offer now would mean the end to her family's trouble. With the money as a gift instead of a loan, her family would be free from financial ruin.

"I would be expected to share your bed then?"

"Naturally. It's a wife's duty to satisfy her husband, and you will satisfy me."

His words took her breath away as she pictured them naked together, tangled in bed sheets.

"How long could I expect this arrangement to last for?"

"I would consider it a permanent arrangement."

"In that case, you will be faithful to me," she told him. "I won't have you out there making a mockery of me by sleeping around."

Her parents would be horrified if she became the joke of the town.

"You don't get to dictate what happens in our marriage, but rest assured I will be discreet should it come to that."

He was openly admitting to her that he intended to have affairs, or keep a mistress, whilst she was expected to stay at home like some dutiful wife that he would never love. The idea made her sick to the pit of her stomach.

Her phone rang, and she looked at the screen. It was her mother. She had told her mother she wouldn't be available this afternoon, so if her mother was calling it must be urgent. She looked at Damon and he motioned for her to pick it up.

"Mom, is everything alright?"

She could barely understand her mother through the sobs coming down the line, but eventually she pieced together what her mother was trying to tell her. Her father had just tried to kill himself with sleeping tablets. He was in hospital, and she should come now; her family needed her.

As she hung up the phone, she noticed she was shaking. Damon was by her side in an instant, asking her if he could get her anything.

"Hospital, I have to get to the hospital."

"Of course, I'll have my driver take you."

A moment later she heard him on the phone, "Nicole, cancel my meetings for the rest of the afternoon. Yes, even the Barroway meeting."

The next thing she knew, he was ushering her out the office door and into the elevator. He kept his hand on her back the whole time. Finally they were in his car, both of them in the back seat as the driver sped them towards the hospital.

This was exactly the type of thing that she had hoped to avoid by coming to Damon. If she married him, her life would be over, but it was a small price to pay for the happiness of the three people she loved most in the world.

She turned to him now to find him watching her.

"I'll do it," she told him quietly, "Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just please save my family."

* * *

A/N: Please review if you think you'd like to read more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who added this story to their story alerts and favorites. I expected a couple of comments, so I was shocked, like really shocked, by the response, and kind of terrified as well! Argh, I thought, people are going to read this – cue performance anxiety here.

I do have to warn people again, this story is straight romance; romantic clichés and cheesiness will be present in this story. Expect a powerful and sexy hero, who is broken in some way, and a somewhat naïve and innocent heroine. I'm going for mildly old fashioned here. There will be lust, jealousy, and of course love, though our two main characters will fight that every step of the way. Enjoy…

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"I don't see why we can't just go down to city hall and get married there," Elena told Damon.

They were in Damon's office. She was sitting, and he was standing in front of her, leaning on his desk.

"I'm a billionaire, Elena. People expect me to have a wedding, and we will give them one. How do you think the papers would perceive it if I was just to elope without any notice."

"I thought you didn't care what people thought."

"I don't," he growled at her, "but being Damon Salvatore does come with certain…expectations. We need people to believe this union is real. I shouldn't have to explain this to you. Doesn't every woman dream of having her perfect wedding?"

Every woman dreamed of marrying a man that loved them, Elena thought. She was still trying to come to terms with that; still reeling from the fact that just a week ago she had expected she would someday marry Stefan and live happily ever after. Now she'd made a deal with the devil, she'd signed her life away for money; for her family's happiness.

The devil had been generous with her though; he had agreed to keep her parents in the dark about their arrangement. He was investing money in the business as a private backer. Her parents would still have their pride and would be blissfully unaware that their daughter was entering into a loveless marriage for them. For that she was grateful.

Damon had met her family yesterday, specifically to ask Elena's father for her hand in marriage. He'd easily convinced both her mother and her father that their relationship was a whirlwind romance that had taken both of them by surprise, and that he was smitten.

Damon had played the part so well that Elena had had to remind herself that none of it was real. The way he kept his arm around her all night and looked at her as if she were the only person in the room had put aside any concerns her parents may have had in the beginning.

Of course after Damon had left, her parents asked her what happened with Stefan. She told them it was over. She did not tell them that Stefan hated her now and would probably never speak to her again. She'd never felt lower than the day she told Stefan she was going to marry his brother.

"_You're marrying him? Him? You're obviously more of a gold digger than I thought you were."_

"_Stefan, how could you think such a thing of me?"_

"_You planned this all along didn't you? It was never me you were interested in. I'll bet you orchestrated our whole meeting and relationship so you could sink your hooks into my brother. I thought you were different from the others."_

"_It wasn't like that Stefan."_

"_Wasn't it? What was it like then?"_

_She couldn't answer him. What could she possibly tell him that would change his perception of her, or make him feel better? She felt helpless against the onslaught of emotions and insults he was throwing at her._

"_Am I expected to believe that you and my brother are in love? My brother loves no-one. Not since Katherine. If you think he'll ever love you, you're delusional. Perhaps though, that is exactly what you deserve." _

_Who was Katherine? Damon had told her he'd been in love once; that it had not ended well. Was Katherine the woman that had made Damon vow never to love again? She wanted to ask Stefan what had happened, but he was looking at her so cold and accusingly, she didn't think that the question would go down well right now. _

"_With me you could have had love and marriage. We would have been happy together. You won't find that with Damon. Damon cares for no-one but himself. He's flicked the switch; turned off his emotions. He doesn't want to feel anything." _

_Stefan paced the floor in front of her._

"_He's just using you to get back at me, you know. Katherine preferred me to him. He's never got over that. That's all you'll ever be to him, the woman he took from me." _

_Was she just a pawn in the Salvatore brother's game? He stopped and looked at her._

"_Has he told you that you look like her? There are some slight differences, but you're almost a dead ringer for Katherine." _

_She looked like the woman who had broken Damon's heart? That didn't bode well for her, did it?  
_

"_I would feel sorry for you, but a woman who marries for money gets exactly what she deserves; a husband who doesn't give a shit about her. Good luck with that, Elena. I hope you'll be very, very unhappy." _

_Then he'd just left her there. She wanted to crawl into the corner, curl up and cry. What would that achieve though? Things were what they were. Her relationship with Stefan was over now. She would never have her happy ever after with Stefan, and from what he'd told her, she wouldn't have one with Damon either._

"Elena," Damon said sharply.

"Hmmm," what had he asked her?

"I said, doesn't every woman dream of her perfect wedding?"

"These aren't exactly normal circumstances, Damon. You've given me one month to organize a wedding. I have no idea where to start."

She admitted to this feeling slightly foolish. Damon was perhaps in need of someone a little more worldly than she as a wife. She hoped she would not be an embarrassment to him.

"I thought you might say that," he told her. "That's why I've brought in help."

Elena sat up a little bit straighter in her chair, as he dialed out on his phone, "Nicole, send in Rose."

A moment later a beautiful brunette entered the room. Rose smiled warmly at Damon, and when he returned her smile just as warmly, it left Elena feeling a little cold. By the way he embraced Rose and kissed her on the cheek, they knew each other well. Elena wondered if they'd slept together.

"Elena," Damon turned to her, "This is Rose, the best personal assistant anyone could ever ask for."

"I wouldn't go that far," Rose said to Elena.

"I would," Damon said, continuing to grin at her. "It's not every PA that would cut their European vacation short just to come home and plan their boss's wedding."

Rose had left Europe early to come back and help plan the wedding? Wouldn't a wedding planner have been a better idea? She couldn't stop the small pang of guilt that his assistant had been called back from a holiday to plan her wedding.

"How did the temp work out?" Rose asked him.

"Couldn't do half the things I asked her to do, and her obvious attraction to me seemed to stop her from getting a great deal of work done. She seemed preoccupied with unbuttoning her blouse whenever I was in the room."

Rose laughed softly. "You do have that effect on women," she said to him.

"Except you Rose, you seem to be immune to my charm."

Did that mean he hadn't slept with her?

"So," Damon said, looking at Elena. "Money is obviously no problem." He turned back to Rose. "Make sure she has everything she could want or need for the day. I'm currently late for a meeting, so feel free to use my office for the next hour or so."

With that he picked up the suit jacket that had been slung on the back of his chair and left them without another word.

In Elena's opinion Rose's gaze lingered just a bit too long on Damon as he exited the room. Elena wanted to tell the other woman to back the hell off; Damon was hers.

She hoped that becoming Damon's wife wouldn't turn her into some crazed, possessive woman. She'd never had a jealous bone in her body, but then Stefan had never attracted as much attention as Damon.

"Well," Rose said to her now, "Where would you like to start?"

Elena wanted to know what Rose thought about her boss suddenly deciding to get married like this. Really though, it didn't matter what anyone thought of their marriage. She'd seen the look on her father's face, when he realized he wasn't going to lose everything he'd spent his lifetime working for. That look was worth it all.

Now though, she had to pay the price - marriage to Damon.

Damon had had legal documents drawn up to outline every part of their agreement; as if he thought she might weasel out of her responsibilities. And there it had been in black and white, just so she could make no mistake about it – she was expected to share his bed and give him at least one child. At least one! She wondered if he had some idea of her being barefoot and pregnant year in and year out.

She hadn't even kissed him yet, and he expected her to have sex with him shortly. Sex – that would be what it was. With Stefan, she'd made love, with Damon it would be sex. What else could it be when there was no love involved?

Damon would be an experienced and attentive lover, she was sure of it. She herself had only had two sexual partners, including Stefan. What if he found her to be lacking in that department? What if she didn't satisfy him? Would he then go to his mistress? Did he already have one of those?

"Earth to Elena," Rose said softly. "Can we get started?"

Elena nodded. With every day that passed, Damon was in more and more of her thoughts. She had to try and turn them off. She could not allow herself to feel anything more than a cool affection for the man who had warned her up front not to love him.

* * *

That night Damon insisted on taking Elena out to dinner. They'd spent every night of week together since she'd agreed to marry him. Damon said it was good for them to be seen together. She wondered how Caroline had taken her break-up to Damon, and hoped she would never run into the former beauty queen.

Damon ordered several courses for both of them. She did try to protest, saying she had not much of an appetite, but Damon wouldn't take no for an answer. She was learning quickly that Damon got what he wanted, and it was better to save her breath than try to argue with him.

"You're not sleeping well," he stated.

"I'm fine, Damon."

"Elena, you look like the walking dead."

She shifted under his intense gaze.

"Just what every woman wants to hear."

"How did things go with Rose today? Was she helpful?" Damon asked her.

"Very. Though I don't understand why you would call back you assistant from her holiday instead of organizing a wedding planner."

"Rose is a good person. I thought the last few weeks have probably been stressful enough on you. I thought you might need more than a wedding planner; I thought you might need a friend."

"Oh,"

"So did you two make headway?"

"Yes, but…,"

"But?"

"It made me realize that I don't know you at all. Every time she asked me a question about what we want, I couldn't really answer it. I had to ask _her_ what you would like, or what you would think about different ideas that I had."

Damon frowned at her.

"This is your wedding, Elena. You'll only have one wedding day. I want this day to be whatever you want it to be. Besides, once we're married we'll get to know each other very quickly."

He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. She caught his meaning instantly; her body's response to his suggestion was just as immediate.

He picked up her hand and held it in his.

"Don't look so scared," he told her, "I'm not going to maul you the moment you say I do."

"Of course," she said to him, "it's all just so sudden."

His thumb was now stroking circles over the palm of her hand.

"How about this," he said to her, "I will give you one month from our wedding day to get used to the idea of us…together. In that time, either you will come to me, or on our one month anniversary, I will come to you. And Elena, if I come to you, I expect you to be willing."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Is that fair?" he asked her.

"That's fair," she choked.

He brought her palm to his mouth, and pressed his lips against it, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I've never slept with an unwilling woman and I won't start with you. But be warned, patience is not one of my virtues. Don't expect me to wait a month to touch you."

She was aware of how shallow her breathing was. She felt the warmth spreading through her body. She pressed her thighs tightly together as if that might stop her body from becoming more aroused than it already was.

A waiter came by to refill their wine glasses, and Elena used the time to pull her hand free from Damon's grasp. His touch; his smile, his eyes on hers seemed to be having a devastating effect on her, and she wanted it to stop.

The rest of the meal passed quickly. Damon was charming, she knew that already, but he was also incredibly easy to talk to, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in everything about her. He, on the other hand, deflected any questions of a personal nature. He gave her information about his business, about his travels, but nothing beyond the surface.

She wanted desperately to ask him about Katherine. What Stefan had said to her, left her wanting to know more about the woman who had hurt Damon so badly he would give up love; the woman who Stefan said she resembled closely. She did not, however, have the courage to broach the subject.

Eventually the restaurant was closing and Damon's driver dropped her home. Damon exited the car and came round to open her door for her, taking her hand as she stepped out. His fingers intertwined with hers and Elena felt the familiar charge his touch gave her. Once they were on the doorstep he made no move to let her hand go.

"Thank you for tonight Damon. Both the meal and the company were enjoyable as usual."

Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she wondered again when he would finally kiss her. The longer she waited for his kiss, the more nervous she felt. She wanted to get it over with because the build-up and the tension were starting to interfere with her ability to concentrate on anything else.

She was curious to know what he tasted like. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the cologne he was wearing, and the scent was so appealing it made the butterflies in her stomach beat their wings rapidly.

Her eyes met his again, and the humor in them was evident. He was smirking. Did he know what she was thinking? He stood a little bit closer to her and leaned in, brushing the softest kiss over her cheek – the same thing he had done every night this week!

"Goodnight, Elena. As usual, the pleasure was all mine." He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. "Get some sleep. I can't have my bride to be walking around like a zombie."

He waited until she was inside before he returned to his car, and as she closed the door behind her, she wondered if she stood any chance at all of keeping her heart safe from the man who wanted her body, but not her love.

* * *

A/N: After the overwhelming response to the first chapter I sincerely hope the second one was not a disappointment.

For those of you waiting for an update to my story _Friendship On Ice_, the chapter is mostly written, but I'm still tweaking. I hope to have it up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'd like to thank you all again for your reviews and support. Again, I'm really overwhelmed and nervous now. Thank you to Old Kentucky Shark for your question and to gseemann for your thoughts. I've been thinking a lot about your comments in the review section and hope to address both of them at some time.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"No, something is definitely missing," Damon told Elena.

He walked in a slow circle around her, tapping his chin with his index finger. He was dressed in a black suit, dark blue shirt and black and blue striped tie.

"What do you mean something is missing?" Elena asked, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

She'd just spent hours getting ready for their rehearsal dinner, and she was absolutely certain that she wasn't missing anything! She walked over to the full length mirror in her bedroom, to take yet another look. Her hair was falling in soft waves around her perfectly made face. Her dress was one that she'd spent hours searching for. Finally she'd settled on a brightly patterned blue and green gown that fell just above the knee. Her strappy sandals went with it perfectly. She knew Damon liked the dress, because his eyes had lit up when he saw her in it.

Damon walked up behind her until she could feel the heat of his body through the thin material of her dress. She watched in the mirror, as out of his hand swung a diamond pendant on a black choker necklace. She gasped with surprise as her eyes met his in the mirror.

"I thought you might need something to go with that enormous rock on your finger," he told her. He swept all of her hair to one side, and a shiver went through her as his hands fastened the choker around her neck.

The past month had been just like this. He was always surprising her with gifts and outings to the theater or a charity event. At first she had enjoyed them, believing he was attempting to court her, believing that he was beginning to care for her as more than just his future wife of convenience.

Then they'd gone shopping for her engagement ring. She hadn't wanted anything too flashy or ostentatious; however, Damon had insisted she have something big and visible. He told her, "You're mine Elena. I want people to see this and think of me."

She'd realized then that his gifts were a form of branding. Each thing she wore of his; every adornment was meant to tell the world she belonged to him. Damon Salvatore owned her and he saw her simply as his possession. She was his property, and that was all there was to it. The thought infuriated her. She was not some acquisition; she was a person, whether he was marrying her for convenience or not.

"Do you like it?" he asked her now, his eyes on hers in the mirror.

For a moment she thought she saw uncertainty in his eyes, but that was ridiculous. Damon Salvatore wasn't the uncertain type. He was a predator in the business world and in his personal life he was just as ruthless. Any man, who asked his brother's girlfriend to marry him when she was in such a highly vulnerable position, could only be described as ruthless.

"It's stunning. Thank you." The word stunning didn't come close to encapsulating the beauty of the diamond she was wearing around her neck; but it was better than throwing the thing in his face and telling him she'd changed her mind about marrying him.

Their wedding was tomorrow, and she was absolutely certain that she did not want to go through with it. She was equally certain, however, that she would marry him anyway. Her family's debt had been settled in its entirety. All that was left was for her to uphold her end of their bargain. She did not think he would take kindly to her backing out now.

"We should go," she told him, "that is, if I meet with your approval now?"

There was a slight edge to her voice when she asked the question. She knew he heard it when he raised one eyebrow.

"Have I done something wrong, Elena?" he asked her.

"No, of course not. It's just that the dinner starts at seven, and I want to be there on time."

He gave her a look that told her he didn't believe it, and for a moment she thought he would argue with her but instead he dropped the matter. "Let's go then."

Once they were downstairs she noticed her family had already gone.

"I sent your parents and Jeremy off with Ric tonight. I thought they might all enjoy the luxury of a chauffeured car for the night."

She hated it when he made her feel like one of his possessions; but she hated it even more when he was thoughtful and sweet. She wanted to hold on to the anger because it was safer. If she had to marry this man who insisted that love was no part of their deal, then anger and rage were far more useful to her than appreciation and like.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "That was thoughtful of you." She saw his smirk as he held the front door open for her. "If Ric isn't taking us, then who is?" she asked him.

"Me," he told her, throwing his keys in the air and then catching them. "Unless you want to drive?"

Elena took in the black Lamborghini in front of her, and shook her head.

"No? Maybe next time then." He looked thoroughly amused as he opened the door for her.

Her heart literally flew into her mouth as they sped out of the driveway. The car fitted him to a tee. It was sleek, sexy and powerful.

"I'm thinking this isn't exactly a family car," she told him. She watched him change gears.

He laughed and looked at her. "Nope, just our chariot for the night."

"So," he said to her after a minute.

"So," she said back.

"Big day tomorrow."

Was this why he was driving? Did he want to make sure she wasn't going to back out?

"Mm-hmm," was the only response she gave him.

"No cold feet?" he asked her now.

She could feel his eyes on her, and she wished that he would watch the road instead of her considering the speed they were going.

"I signed the contract, Damon. I am going to marry you," she sighed. She glanced at him and he nodded once as if to say, 'okay then'.

Within minutes they were at the hotel where the rehearsal dinner was taking place. Damon handed his keys to the valet, tipped him, and then put his arm around Elena. As they walked into the function room, where their close friends and family were waiting, Elena was well aware that they must have looked every part the happy couple.

What a farce, she thought, what a deception. Should she be worried, that she had so easily managed to convince every one of her friends and family members that this was what she wanted and that she couldn't wait to be married? Only her friend from college, Bonnie, had questioned her about her choice, about whether this was what she wanted. Everyone else assumed that she was happy. She'd successfully pulled off the glowing bride-to-be.

The room started to swim a bit before her eyes, as people flocked to them. She would survive this, she thought, she would get through this. She wasn't a victim here; this was her choice. She was choosing to marry Damon. Yes, to save her family, and yes there hadn't been any other choice that she could think of; but it was still her choice. She took the glass of champagne that someone offered her and drank it quickly, enjoying the slide of the bubbly liquid down her too dry throat. She would survive this. She would survive their marriage.

* * *

After dinner, Damon watched Elena from across the room. Somewhere in the throng of people they had been separated. It was a struggle to keep his eyes off her, and he had to work hard at making conversation with people. The heels she was wearing made her legs look impossibly long, and he couldn't help think that he was an idiot for agreeing to wait one month to have those long slender legs wrapped around his waist.

He'd wanted her from the moment he'd first seen her with Stefan. Now though, his desire was more than just plain want; it was a hunger that was gnawing away at him and he was having trouble keeping his word to wait a month.

Not having her wasn't his only frustration either. She still looked tired; she obviously wasn't sleeping well at all, and he was afraid she was losing weight. Something she could not afford to do. He didn't know what to do. He knew that this marriage was sudden, and he knew that she was marrying him to save her family; but that didn't stop him wanting her to be happy.

He could give her almost anything she wanted. He could give her more than Stefan could. He hoped in time that she would see that and come to care for him as a husband and as the father of her children. Love only complicated things; but friendship and companionship would make their marriage easier. He enjoyed her company more than he thought he would. He didn't think he was deluding himself that she seemed to enjoy his company too.

Damon watched as Elena took yet another glass of champagne off one of the trays being carried around by the waiting staff. Was that her fifth or sixth glass? She was smiling politely and nodding as her Uncle kept her there with his conversation. Then she looked right at Damon, lifted the glass by way of a toast, before bringing it to her beautiful lips and drinking the whole darn lot. She knew that wasn't lolly water, right?

"Oh, Damon, Elena is just lovely," gushed his Aunt Lydia. "You two will have to come over for dinner after the honeymoon."

"Of course. We'd be delighted," he told her, giving her his best faux smile.

Lydia was always after a loan of some kind, and unlike Elena, she had nothing to offer him except gossip about the rest of the family. Unfortunately, exchanging pleasantries with his family was a necessity on an occasion like this.

"Please excuse me, Aunt Lydia, I see someone I must talk to,"

"Go, Dear. I need to find your Uncle anyway."

He strode across the room to where Elena was standing with Uncle John. He put his arm around her.

"Would you mind if I stole my fiancée for a moment?" he asked her uncle.

Damon didn't bother to wait for an answer before he marched Elena into the powder room. He checked no-one was using the bathroom before he locked the door behind them.

"What are you doing? I was talking…"

"I think _we_ should talk," he said to her. "Want you to tell me why you're guzzling Champagne out there like its water?"

She rolled her eyes.

"You're not my father, Damon. You're not even my husband. Yet. Besides, this is supposed to be a celebration isn't it?"

She was mad at him. Good. At least she was talking.

"You're upset with me, want to tell me why?"

"Not really," she said.

"Talk to me, Elena. I want to know what's running through that gorgeous head of yours tonight."

He did. He wanted to know her, understand her; make her happy. He'd been accused more than once of only caring about himself, but that wasn't the truth in this case. When she wasn't happy, he felt like he was failing somehow and when she was happy, he felt happy too. So maybe that was him caring about himself after all.

"That," she said waving her hand in the direction of their waiting dinner guests, "is all just one big farce. I'm lying to everyone I love. It's all just pretend. Our wedding is tomorrow and our marriage is just going to be one big lie."

"What makes you think that?" he asked her.

"You said you will never love me. You told me to never love you. That is a lie. Marriage should be about love; two people being in love. Don't you ever want to experience that, Damon, because I know I do."

"And what happens when the love runs out? What happens when two people fall out of love?" he asked her. "Don't you think that two people who like each other; two people that enjoy each other's company, two people that are friends, are better suited to marriage than two people who are under the influence of a chemical reaction? We have something, Elena. We like each other, we enjoy spending time together. We're attracted to each other. Surely that's a good enough reason for marriage."

Elena looked at him. He made sense. For some reason that only made her angrier.

"Yes, I can see that friendship is important; but I don't think two people should get married when they don't love each other. Plus, I think you just don't like being out of control. This marriage is just a way for you to avoid being out of control."

"You think I don't like to be out of control?" he asked her, his voice full of disbelief.

"Yes. I think that's it exactly. You're afraid of it. You won't let it happen."

"Really?" he asked silkily. "If I didn't want to be out of control, Elena, I wouldn't do this."

He took two long strides towards her and put his put his arms around her, pulling her against him. Then he kissed her. The moment his lips touched hers, Elena felt like she was falling. She should push him away. They were supposed to be talking. She was angry. Yet, for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to pull away from him.

His lips were firm but soft on hers, igniting a fire that swept through her body. At first he gave her soft drugging kisses, before he deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth, exploring her mouth thoroughly. She clung to him, holding his shirt in both of her hands simply taking the pleasure he was giving her with his tongue. She felt him harden against her and her belly quivered. She pressed into him, delighting in his groan. Then it was her tongue that was exploring his mouth and her hand stroking up and down the long hard length of him through his pants.

He lifted her onto the vanity, and put his hands under her dress, stroking the inside of her thighs. Elena felt her excitement growing. She continued touching him, and he thrust into her hand, mimicking the familiar thrust of sex. He brushed his hand over her panties, before sliding his fingers inside the elastic and touching her honeyed heat.

"So wet," he said, more to himself than to her.

He rubbed his thumb in slow circles over her nub, sliding one finger inside of her. That was almost too much for her. His mouth was on hers as she panted breathlessly. Then he was rubbing her faster, applying slightly more pressure and he slipped a second finger inside her stroking her. The tension built so quickly that when her orgasm slammed through her, she couldn't help but cry out. Thankfully Damon's mouth on hers muffled the cry.

Damon felt Elena's body tighten around his fingers, and he knew he was ridiculously close to his own release, especially with the way she was still stroking him. This woman made him feel more aroused and incompetent than when he was a fourteen year old virgin. He leaned his forehead against hers. He'd promised her a month before he would ask her to share a bed. Technically, however, he wasn't going to ask her to share his bed now.

"I want you," he told her, "do you still need a month?"

"No," she said, still breathless. "I want you too."

Her hands reached for his belt just as a knock on the door sounded. Damon cursed silently as Elena's hands stilled. Neither of them moved. The knock came again, more aggressive this time.

"Damon. I know you're in there."

The sound of his baby brother's accusing voice was enough to set his teeth on edge. Stefan had informed him that he would not come tonight, yet here he was, interrupting him at the worst possible time. Stefan couldn't have timed it better if he tried.

"I'm going to kill him," he said to Elena, through gritted teeth.

She looked horrified at the thought. Yep, he was definitely going to kill him.

She put her hand on his arm. "Don't. This is hard on him. Please don't make a scene."

He waited whilst Elena jumped off the vanity, looked in the mirror, smoothed her hair and reapplied some lipstick, before he yanked the door open.

He could tell straight away that Stefan had been drinking. His eyes had that slightly glazed look. He was holding an almost empty glass in one hand, and his other arm was around Caroline Forbes. What were they doing here?

"Stefan. Did I hear you wrong when you said I couldn't pay you enough to show up here?"

"I wasn't going to come, Damon. But I ran into Caroline here downtown, and she convinced me to pay a little visit. She thought we should pass on our condolences. I mean our congratulations."

Stefan smiled. Caroline giggled. The words were slurred, and Damon knew that it would be difficult to avoid an altercation whilst his brother was this intoxicated. Damon felt Elena come to stand behind him. Stefan tried to stand a little straighter when he saw her.

"Hello, Elena," Stefan said.

"Stefan," she acknowledged quietly.

"Have you met Caroline?" he asked her. "She used to date Damon before you decided to swap brothers."

"You're drunk. Go home and sleep it off," Damon told his brother. He would be on his best behavior tonight; but only for Elena. They were beginning to attract some attention now. People were gathering to listen to what was being said by the four of them.

"I think we might stay a while. My big brother is getting married after all. I should be here." Stefan said, nodding. "Hell, I should be the one getting married, but you stole my girl. So now I'm going to watch you fuck up her life, and your life too. This should be like watching a train crash in slow motion. Funny how you've got everyone here fooled. Not me, though. I know the truth."

"And what is that?" Damon asked, wanting the conversation over with.

"It'll never work," he said plainly. "It will never work."

Damon watched Stefan and Caroline walk away; watched his brother get a re-fill before he pulled Caroline onto the dance floor. He turned to Elena.

"Don't worry about what Stefan said," he told her, "it will work. You'll see."

It would work because he would make it work. Elena was his now, and he would do whatever it took to keep her. Whatever it took. She looked at him, her eyes full of doubt. He was going to have to find a way to prove it to her.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and please review. I'm aware that people have questions, thoughts and concerns and hearing them helps me refine my ideas. Please know I will do my best to address all of them. Wedding next chapter. Thoughts for the wedding and honeymoon are welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I had an absolute ball writing this; it was far more fun than I thought it would be. Of course it made me a tad nostalgic as I remembered all the details of my own wedding day.

I often listen to music whilst I write, but for this chapter my choice of music was a little bit different. I chose Pachelbel's Canon in D major and decided to make it the processional music in the chapter. Friends of mine used the music in their ceremony and I just adored it. Of course I cried at their wedding, but truth be told I do cry at most weddings.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Elena's alarm went off bright and early the next morning. She'd been awake for some time already, just laying there looking at the ceiling. She turned off the alarm and pulled the comforter over her head, wishing she could hide under there forever, wishing she could sleep. She felt so tired, but she had to get up.

Last night had been one more sleepless night in a long month where lack of sleep had become the norm. When she'd finally put her head on the pillow, she saw her bathroom scene with Damon on repeat. She'd had no intention of sleeping with him before her deadline. But when he'd touched her; when he'd kissed her, she'd fallen apart in his arms. If Stefan hadn't knocked on that door, she wouldn't have thought twice about letting him have her there and then. She'd never had sex in a public place before. Never.

That incident had only proved to her how dangerous marrying Damon would be. She couldn't keep her balance around him, she couldn't maintain control of herself and she couldn't say no. She laughed bitterly, remembering how she'd told Damon he didn't like to be out of control. That had been a projection. _She_ didn't want to be out of control, and that was exactly how he made her feel.

She felt so much desire for the man that it scared her. She'd been waiting a month for him to kiss her and when he had, it had far surpassed any fantasy she'd had about the moment. Once they started sleeping together, she had no hope of keeping her emotions out of it. She understood that. She'd never been very good at keeping sex and emotions separate.

He'd given her such logical reasons for them to get married, but she still believed that love should be the number one reason for marriage. She knew that she could fall in love with Damon; but she didn't want to, not when she would be falling alone. Relationships weren't meant to be like that. How could he possibly expect things to work? Stefan's words floated through her head for the hundredth time since he'd said them, 'it'll never work.'

The only things she had to hold onto were anger and resentment. They would stop her falling in love. She hoped. If she felt more for Damon than he felt for her, then that meant he had all the control. After he'd essentially forced her hand and made her marry him; and considering his money gave him the power to do almost anything he wanted, was it so wrong that she wanted to maintain some shred of control in this relationship?

There was a knock on the door, before her mother walked into the room.

"Elena, you need to get up. The big day is here." Her mother's smile and enthusiasm were a stark contrast to her own feelings of dread about the day ahead.

"Just give me a minute," she told her mother, "I'm just saying goodbye to my bed since I'll never sleep in it again. It deserves a moment."

"It is a nice bed, Elena but I'm sure Damon's bed will be nicer," her mother said with smile and a wink.

"Mom!" she exclaimed.

Her mother giggled like a schoolgirl. "If I was a bit younger and single…"

"Okay, stop, stop," said Elena putting up her hand, not wanting to hear the rest. "I'm getting up."

"I've made you a hot breakfast. You can't have an empty stomach on your big day. We don't want you fainting."

Food was the last thing she wanted, but she didn't really want to faint today, not in front of all the cameras that would be there.

"I'm getting in the shower. I'll be down soon."

As she got out of bed she noticed that the sun was shining. She didn't think today was worthy of sunshine. It felt like it should be more of a lightning, thunder and torrential rain kind of day.

She showered, dressed and made her way downstairs where her family were waiting for her. Their happy faces, smiles and jokes lightened her mood the slightest fraction and she relaxed for almost one full minute, before her stomach clenched and she remembered the wedding. She looked at her mom, dad, and Jeremy. This was all for them, she reminded herself; all for them.

They arrived at the chapel with plenty of time to spare. Her dress and belongings had driven to the church yesterday, as well as all the bits and pieces needed to turn her into a princess for a day. The reception was being held down the block, at a venue reserved just for wedding receptions.

Bonnie was waiting for her by the church entrance.

"Hey Girl, ready for your big day?" Bonnie greeted, giving her a tight hug, before she pulled away to look at her. "Did you get any sleep last night? Never mind. Make-up is a wonderful thing."

Elena was only having one bridesmaid. She may not be getting married at City Hall, but she had opted to keep the wedding as simple as possible. Damon's best man, Mason Lockwood, had flown in from Florida a few days ago. The two had played college football together and Damon had told Elena that Mason was the only guy for the job of best man.

As Elena got ready, she was aware of her breakfast churning in her stomach. She hoped it would stay down during the ceremony. The closer they got to the ceremony starting time, the more on edge she felt. She snapped at Bonnie twice and her mom once. She felt terrible, but they just laughed and made a joke out of it.

"Oh Sweetie, you look so beautiful," her mother told her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Your father and I are so proud of you, Elena."

Elena stood in front of the mirror and ran her hands over the dress. She was wearing a Vera Wang white strapless wedding gown. The bodice was fitted, and accentuated her bust, whilst the skirt flared out. It was simple but elegant. Her hair was pinned so that half of it sat curled on top of her head whilst the rest was left down. Her bouquet was a simple combination of white roses and lilies.

"Yeah, Elena, Damon is going to flip-out when he sees you," Bonnie said, as she pinned the veil in Elena's hair.

Elena didn't know whether it was the veil being placed on her head, or the mention of his name which triggered the attack, but all of a sudden she was having a lot of trouble breathing. She started breathing so fast she simply couldn't take in enough oxygen.

"Can't breathe," she tried to tell them, clutching her chest.

She couldn't do this, she thought. She couldn't go through with it. It was wrong. This was meant to be the happiest day of her life, but instead it felt like the end of her life. She'd find a way to repay Damon every cent. She couldn't marry a man who didn't love here. She couldn't.

* * *

Damon didn't like this one bit. She was late; later than she'd promised him she'd be. He pulled at his tie, finding the darn thing too tight. Elena had told him she was going to marry him. She was now technically twenty minutes late, and he was starting to sweat. He didn't do sweating; he didn't do clammy hands, he didn't do nerves, but as every second ticked away, he found himself checking his watch continuously and fearing the worst.

"Relax," Mason told him, when he saw Damon checking his watch for the third time in a minute. "No-one's going to leave Damon Salvatore at the altar. Heck, if I was a woman I'd marry you."

He hated it. He hated how nervous he was, he hated that he wanted this so much, and he hated that she was making him feel this way. After what seemed like an eternity, Jeremy walked over to him and handed him his phone.

"It's Bonnie," he told Damon. "She says Elena is having some kind of panic attack."

Damon took the phone and walked away, aware that all eyes were on him. He could feel them all burning a hole in his back.

"Bonnie," he said into the phone.

"Damon, she's totally freaking out here. I've got her breathing into a paper bag but…"

"Put her on, Bonnie," he said roughly.

"But…"

"I said put her on," he barked. Then he added "Please," a bit more softly as an afterthought.

He heard a shuffle on the other end of the line and then he heard Bonnie say something to Elena.

"Damon…I can't do this," Elena whispered into the phone. "I can't marry you. I'm sorry."

He was in a chapel; he wouldn't swear, but he wanted to. He wanted to kick something, he wanted to scream. He felt his stomach roil. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this bad. Actually, yes he could. When he'd found out Katherine had betrayed him.

He'd thought marrying Elena for convenience would mean he never had to feel that way again; that marriage to her would be simple and uncomplicated. He'd hoped they would have a nice easy friendship with the added benefit of mutual attraction. He hadn't counted on the fear that was literally choking him as he thought he might lose her, that he might never really have her. It was that paralyzing fear that dictated what he said next.

"Elena, I swear here before God himself that if you don't get your ass out that door and marry me, I'm coming up there and carrying you down here myself. You made me a deal, and now you'd better pay up or so help me women I will destroy you and your family too. I'll take away everything. Don't believe I won't."

He regretted the words the moment they were out. He heard her gasp. He was being completely unreasonable. He knew those words would do more damage than good in the long run, but the fear – the fear had control over him and he was helpless to stop the words from coming.

"Marry me now, or suffer the consequences," he told her, before he hung up. She would come. She had to come.

He walked over to Jeremy and handed him the phone.

"Everything all right?" Jeremy asked him.

"Everything is fine. Just some last minute nerves. It's sorted."

He liked Elena's family a lot; liked them more than his own family if he were honest. They were genuine people – the ideal family in law. He wouldn't have hurt them; but Elena now believed he would. She was going to think he was some kind of monster. He'd messed this up so badly. It was too late to go back though. She would marry him now because he'd blackmailed her.

He took his spot back next to Mason, and waited. Five minutes later, he heard Pachelbel's Canon begin to play. He felt his heart beat heavy and awkwardly in his ribs; felt his palms begin to sweat again. Was this normal? Why would people ever do this wedding thing more than once? He resisted the urge to strain and try to get a peek at his bride.

Bonnie walked down the aisle first. Damon spared her a quick glance, appreciating the bronze colored dress for a moment, before his eyes returned to the arch. People stood up. This was it. She was coming.

For the first time in he couldn't remember how long, he prayed. He prayed that his marriage work; that Elena would be happy with him and that they live a long and happy life together. If God did in fact exist, would he listen to him? Probably not. Damon knew he didn't deserve much after what he'd just done, but he hoped all the same.

As Elena walked down the aisle, linked arm in arm with her father, she concentrated on glowering at the man she was about to marry. He'd threatened to destroy her family if she backed out. Her rage at him was the only thing giving her the strength to walk down the aisle right now. He was a bully. The most handsome bully she'd ever seen, but a bully nonetheless. In his tux he looked far more sinful and erotic than anyone should in a church.

Once she was closer, her eyes locked onto his. Her breath got stuck in her chest and her heart felt like it stopped beating for a moment. She thought she might stumble, but the strength of her father kept her upright and focused. Damon was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. If he hadn't just blackmailed her into marrying him, she might have been completely charmed, but he had blackmailed her and all sentimental thoughts could leave right now thank you very much.

The ceremony whizzed by quickly; her hands held in Damon's tight grasp so that she couldn't bolt, his eyes never leaving hers – locking her in place.

Traditional wedding vows were the order of the day since Elena had thought writing their own vows would be silly considering the circumstances.

"I, Damon Salvatore, take you Elena Gilbert, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."

His tone was so serious and the words were so final. She had no doubt in her heart that he meant until death do us part. When it was her turn, her voice squeaked a bit but she got through it.

"I, Elena Gilbert, take you Damon Salvatore, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."

As Damon slid a wedding ring on her finger, Elena acknowledged she was now bound to him. The wedding ring, a classic symbol of eternity, would remind her of these vows for the rest of her life.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Her heart thumped away uncontrollably as he lifted the veil. He wrapped his arms around her and bent down to kiss her. His lips were hot on hers, scorching, branding. She was vaguely aware that the crowd was cheering them on. He kept it short and sweet and Elena called her body all kinds of traitorous for wanting the kiss to last longer than it did.

The rest of the night was something of a blur. She didn't want anything to eat, and she was well aware of Damon's frustration with her as she picked at her food beside him, but she didn't care. She would bide her time and as soon as they were alone together she intended to give him a piece of her mind. Not that it would do any good. He'd threatened to hurt the people she cared about and she'd married him, but if he thought she was going to fade into the background like some fifties housewife he had another thing coming.

The one saving grace for the day was that Stefan hadn't shown in face. She wondered briefly if Damon had said something to him after the rehearsal dinner last night or whether he had just decided to stay away. She was glad not to see him either way.

Cameras continually flashed throughout the night and she wondered how the photos would turn out. Her mouth and cheeks ached from forcing so many smiles.

When it came time for the dance, she couldn't even remember which song she had picked for them to dance to. At the time she just had just jumped on line and looked at the most popular wedding dance songs, and chosen one at random.

As Damon swept her onto the dance floor, she heard Etta James' _At Last_ playing softly. Elena was determined not to enjoy the dance, not to look at him, but as Damon waltzed her around the floor; his hand warm on her back, her hand held firmly in his, she found it far too easy to get caught up in the moment. The music was light and romantic and Damon had the tiniest smile playing around his lips. It was all well and good for him to smile, she thought, he had what he wanted and he hadn't cared who he hurt to get it.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered in her ear, as they spun around the floor one more time.

She glared at him, which only served to make his smile grow wider.

"You look even more beautiful when you're mad."

She wanted to hit him. "I hate you," she said under her breath.

"I know," he said. "You'll get over it though."

He was so damn arrogant and cocky.

"A lifetime is too long to be mad at someone," he told her.

"Want to bet?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "What are we betting?"

"Forget it,' she told him. She'd never win a bet she made with him, she was sure of it.

"Well, if you change your mind, you let me know."

They stopped talking as other people started to join them on the dance floor.

Finally the song finished and they left the dance floor. She knew it wouldn't be long now until it was time for them to leave the reception. She had no idea what Damon had in store for their honeymoon. The honeymoon was the only thing that he had organized. She'd been told to get her passport ready, so she assumed she was leaving the country but that was the extent of her knowledge.

Her suitcases were locked away safely in the venue so that they could leave when they needed to. Then she would be alone with him. She had no idea how long they would be gone for. Damon had spoken to her parents about how long she would need off, since she worked in the family business.

The rest of the reception passed far too quickly and soon they were saying their goodbyes to everyone. She held back the tears as she hugged her mother and father.

"I love you Mom. I love you Dad."

"We love you too Sweetheart. Have a great time. We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

She hugged them again. She had no idea when she would see them next, and suddenly she felt very overwhelmed by the idea that when she returned from the honeymoon, her life would be completely different.

Damon watched Elena's eyes fill with tears as she said goodbye to her parents. She was such a warm and caring woman, and obviously a touch sentimental. He'd never thought of himself as sentimental, but when she'd walked down the aisle in her white wedding dress, he'd felt something. When she'd said her vows and when she'd danced in his arms, he'd felt something. He was sure that he'd never seen anything or anyone as beautiful as his new wife; a wife who now hated him with a passion.

He was going to have to do something about that, but it would take time. Now that she was his, he was going to work on making her happy everyday, until hopefully she forgave him for what he'd said; for what he'd done. If she never forgave him, it would be a long and unhappy marriage ahead for them.

He'd always been able to charm people and get his way. He had a feeling though, that making things right with Elena would be the biggest challenge he'd ever face. He couldn't buy his way out of this with her, but he hoped the honeymoon might be the place to start showing her just how good they could be together; just how right the two of them were for each other.

"Elena," he said, holding out his arm for her, "it's time to go." She looked at his arm as if it were a poisonous snake, before she hesitantly looped her arm through his. "Just wait until you see what I've got in store for you, Mrs Salvatore," he told her huskily. He had the delicious pleasure of watching her blush.

He smiled as they walked out together. She was meant for him. He was meant for her. They were good companions for each other. He just had to make her realize that.

* * *

A/N: In regards to pacing and lemons, my intention is to follow as closely as possible the Mills & Boon formula. Honeymoon next chapter. I'll post my update date on my profile page as soon as I know when the next update will be.

Happy holidays everybody. Thank you for reading and please let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Damon sat on the beach, scooping up handfuls of sand and letting it fall between his fingers. He'd never thought that his honeymoon would be filled with so much damn introspection, but here he was, sitting alone on the beach, watching the sun setting over the water and thinking about how he'd never screwed up anything as badly as he'd screwed up his marriage to Elena.

After one week in paradise, he hadn't gotten any further with her than when they first arrived. He'd taken her to one of his favorite places in the world, Tahiti. Being rich had afforded him the luxury of visiting many different places, and he definitely thought Tahiti was heaven on earth. He owned a property in Toahotu that he'd never shared with anyone else. He liked his privacy and space, but he'd wanted Elena to share it with him. He thought that the relaxation might do her good. Even if it just meant her sitting on the beach day in, day out.

To be fair, at the time he'd also been thinking about him and Elena sipping cocktails, watching the sunset, and perhaps skinny dipping. That was before he knew he would have to threaten her to get her to walk down the aisle. He sipped at the glass in his hand.

After the wedding, she'd had something akin to a breakdown. She'd called him morally bankrupt and a controlling egomaniac. Normally he didn't give a damn what anyone thought of him, but he hated that Elena thought he was those things.

He'd done things he regretted before; he'd made mistakes, but never one like this. Blackmailing Elena was about the worst thing he'd ever done and now it looked as if she intended to make him pay for a very long time. She was miserable, and he in turn was miserable.

He'd severely overestimated his ability to win her over. He had no idea what to do with her. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't talk to him. Hell, she wouldn't even look at him most of the time.

He was starting to worry. No, he was more than worried. At moments he'd had thoughts of coming clean and telling her he never would have hurt her family, but the damage was done. Besides, would she really think of him in any better light if he told her the truth? He could see it now, 'So Elena, you remember how I told you I'd take everything away from your family if you didn't marry me, well I lied. I lied to get you to marry me.' Yeah, he didn't think it would go down much better than the threat itself.

The most concerning thing was that she wouldn't eat. She looked like she was losing weight; something she could not afford to do. He didn't know how to get her to eat, short of forcing food into her mouth or threatening her. Neither of those options appealed, but nothing else was working.

He'd tried charming her and he'd tried keeping his distance. He'd been nice and polite, but that was getting him no where fast. He had to change track. Anything was worth a go at this point. Perhaps he had to say goodbye to the idea of her liking him at all. She saw him as a controlling ass anyway. He might as well be one and get her to eat. So that was it then; no more playing mister nice guy.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew off by heart. If anyone could make Elena eat, it would be Bree. He finished his conversation and stood up. He had a stop to make before he returned home.

* * *

Elena sat on her bed, listening to her iPod. She had a book sitting open on her stomach, but she didn't feel like reading. She didn't feel like doing much of anything at all. Damon had brought her to what he called 'his little slice of heaven,' but she didn't want to see or explore any of it. If she were completely honest, she was too busy indulging in self-pity to pay any attention to the scenery outside.

She was managing to avoid Damon by never going outside and not eating. He'd given her a bedroom of her own, and other than letting her know when their food was ready and trying to convince her to eat, she never saw him. For a week, she'd been in these four walls. Instead of thinking of it as a prison, though, it felt more like a safe haven.

She drifted off to sleep for a while and when she woke up she knew straight away he was there. He was standing in the doorway, watching her. She sat up quickly, feeling far too exposed in her short shorts and bikini top, and feeling slightly vulnerable because she was still groggy from her slumber. Even casually leaning in the doorway, he looked imposing. His facial expression was quite dark, she noted. Her gaze traveled from his bare feet, over his black shorts and black polo shirt, to his eyes, which seemed cool compared to normal.

"It's time for dinner," he said simply.

"I'm not hungry," she told him.

"Too bad," he told her, "I have the best cuisine on the island and I promised my friend that I would tell her exactly what you think of her food."

She was about to refuse, when she smelt something divine. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not hungry, because I'm happy to throw yours…"

"Okay, maybe I am a little bit hungry." She expected him to gloat or do a victory dance, but instead he just left her room. She slipped on a tank top and walked out to the patio.

The table had been set up with everything they'd need, including two full glasses of white wine and candles lit up all over the place. She wanted to see what was for dinner, but she was momentarily distracted by the color of the sky. The sun looked as if it had gone down, but there were fingers or pink and red over the water.

"Sit," Damon told her. She sat down in front on a plate of salad, fish and very large chips. It looked good, but it smelt amazing. She picked up her fork and attacked the fish on her plate. She moaned out loud when she tasted it. The fish melted in her mouth, a delicious combination of butter and herbs she didn't recognize. Her taste buds felt as if they were dancing.

Damon tried not to let her moan of satisfaction affect him too much, but it was a swift reminder that it had been far too long since he'd had sex. As if he needed a reminder.

"This is incredible," she told him.

"I know," he said, before he popped one of the chips into his mouth. She reached for her glass and tasted the refreshing chardonnay. She didn't know whether it was the scrumptious food, or the mouthful of wine on an almost empty stomach, but when Damon smiled at her, she smiled back.

"It's nice to see you smile, Elena,"

As soon as he said it, she felt a nervous tension spread throughout her body.

"Don't think that just because I smiled, I'm going to fall into bed with you now."

Damon looked at her but didn't bat an eyelid.

"Us going to bed together is inevitable. The sooner you get used to that idea, the easier it will be for you."

She glared at him, and put down her fork, her appetite suddenly gone. "Easier for you, or easier for me?" she asked him.

"Easier for you," he told her, not skipping a beat. "It's going to happen sooner or later, and you'll be more comfortable if you come to accept it."

"No, you'll be more comfortable if I accept it. You don't want to bed an unwilling woman, Damon, but guess what, you're going to have to, because I'm not willing to go to bed with you. I won't willingly sleep with a man who cares for no-one but himself. The only reason I'm here is because you blackmailed me, and if you think I'm going to just melt into your arms, you have another thing coming."

"Let me be perfectly clear, Elena, I have not touched you since we arrived. I have respected the fact that you are not entirely happy with me…"

"Not happy! I'm…"

"I'm not finished," he cut in. His voice was quiet but something in it told her he would brook no further argument from her. "I know you are not entirely happy with me at the moment, but you made me a deal, and you were going to back out of it. How I responded was unfair, yes, but you would never have been able to pay me back. You know it and I know it. What should I have done?"

"I don't care what you should have done!" Her voice was rising but it didn't stop her. "What kind of man threatens a woman's family so she marries him? What you did was despicable, and I will never forgive you, Damon. Never. And when we do go to bed, I will hate you even more for forcing me to do that!"

She stood up and threw her napkin on the table, before turning to storm away. Unfortunately he captured her wrist in his hand and turned her roughly to face him, ruining her attempt at a dramatic exit.

"Let go of me," she cried out; his fingers biting into the soft flesh at her wrist.

"Listen carefully, Elena. I will never force you into bed with me, but I won't need to. Both of us know how easily and quickly you respond to me."

She flushed from anger and embarrassment, as their bathroom incident flashed before her eyes in vivid detail. "I didn't hate you then."

"No, you didn't, but hate me or not, you're attracted to me. You want me."

She wanted to deny it, but she didn't dare. Knowing Damon, he'd kiss her just to prove his point. She couldn't risk it.

"What, no comeback? You're going to admit you're attracted to me?"

"Well, I've been telling my body what a jerk you are, but it doesn't seem to have listened yet."

Damon burst into laughter; a deep laugh that she had never heard before. She glared at him, annoyed that on top of everything tonight, he was now laughing at her.

"I'm sorry," he said after he stopped laughing. "Please come back and finish your dinner."

"I'm not hungry," she told him.

"Eat anyway," he told her. "We'll be back home soon, and the last thing you want after all you've done for them, is to worry your parents by returning home looking the way you look now."

"Resorting to emotional blackmail now, are we?"

He was, but he was beyond caring. He needed her to eat. He needed her to be okay.

"If that's what it takes to get you to eat, then yes," he said. "You can't go home looking the way you look right now."

"And how do I look?" she asked, not completely sure she wanted to hear his answer.

"You look as if you haven't slept for a month or longer, and like you haven't eaten in just as long. I worry the wind might blow you over at any moment, and you look so miserable that even the wildlife is depressed when it sees you."

She rolled her eyes at him. He was being overly-dramatic surely. Why did he care anyway? Her health really was no concern of his, unless it all came down to what she was to give him. She supposed that he wanted the future mother of his child to be in good shape. That was why she could glimpse concern in his eyes. Whatever the reason for his concern, he was right. It would worry her parents to see her looking sickly.

Reluctantly she joined him at the table again, picking up the fork and eyeing him warily. They both resumed eating in silence.

"So," he said, finally breaking the silence, "I understand you want to punish me for my…despicable ways," he raised his eyebrows at her and grinned evilly, "but we're only here for a few more days, and it would be a pity for you to miss out on the beauty of the island, just to spite me."

She felt like a child being given a dressing down, which was ridiculous since she'd done nothing wrong. She couldn't keep the defensiveness out of her voice when she replied.

"I haven't felt like doing much sightseeing lately."

"Well, I hope that won't be the case tomorrow. For the next few days, I'm going to show you some of my favorite sites around here, so you'd better be ready to sight see."

She looked at him. His gaze was heavy lidded as he leaned back in his chair casually, as if he didn't care either way. She wasn't fooled, though. He was telling her they were going to be spending the next few days together, just like he'd told her they would go to bed together and she would succumb. Was there any point in attempting to fight him? She knew that the passion between them, whether she hated him or not, would explode into something the moment it was allowed to.

Fighting with Damon would be like waving a red flag at a bull and saying, 'come get me'. She didn't want to wave that flag at him anymore tonight. Besides, she preferred to keep the peace unless it was necessary to take a stand. She'd taken her stand. She'd told him what she thought of him, of going to bed with him. He, however, did not care what she thought about him. Her thoughts hadn't deterred him at all. He didn't care about anyone, so why would he care what she thought about him?

Spending time with him was the last thing she wanted to do. She'd thought that she'd successfully managed to avoid Damon for the past week, but now she suspected that the only reason she hadn't seen that much of him was because he had left her alone. Now, however, her grace period was over and she was expected to go back to spending time with him as if nothing had ever happened; as if he hadn't threatened her family or blackmailed her to the altar.

She'd never felt so trapped before in her life. If she fought him, he'd see it as a challenge and try and conquer her. And if she gave in, she feared she would stop hating him all too quickly. She found the only answer was a compromise. She would be polite but cool. She would spend time, but not get involved, and whatever she did, she must never ever forget what Damon Salvatore was capable of.

"Fine," she told him finally, attempting to keep her voice only a notch above zero. "Some sightseeing tomorrow would be acceptable."

"Glad to hear it," he said, giving her such a charming smile that she regretted her decision almost immediately.

* * *

The next day they went snorkeling. Damon took them out on his boat, and it was the first time she had actually looked around her. She reluctantly admitted that the place was indescribably beautiful. The palm trees; the white sand beaches, the clear water and blue skies with white fluffy clouds gave the place an outer world feel. Damon had been right about it being like a little piece of heaven.

She didn't make conversation with Damon, but she answered his questions politely. She was sure she saw him smirk once or twice at her overly polite demeanor, but she didn't mind. At least she wasn't falling all over him, and she was almost managing to keep her eyes off his fantastic body. Today he wore navy shorts with a navy and black striped polo shirt. It wasn't an _Armani_ suit, but he still looked like he could have stepped off the cover of GQ magazine.

The word edible traveled through her mind twice before she gave herself a mental slap. She already knew he tasted amazing; that his kisses were amazing, that going to bed with him would also be amazing. She groaned inwardly as she felt the dull ache of desire start between her legs. Her hormones were going to shoot her plan to hell, she was sure of it.

She let him apply sunscreen to her back when they were getting ready to hop into the water. She didn't want him to, but she thought telling him she'd prefer to be sunburnt than let him touch her would be childish. As his hands stroked over her flesh, applying a liberal amount of cream, she was aware that her heart was beating a little faster than normal. When it was over she breathed a sigh of relief, but then he asked her to return the favor. As she applied sunscreen to his back she tried to keep her touch as clinical as possible, but found herself enjoying the feel of his muscles underneath her hands.

She must have taken a little too long because he looked over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow. "Finished yet?" he asked, smirk in place. She flushed and stopped what she was doing.

They waited a few minutes to let the sunscreen start taking effect before he slipped over the side of the boat, giving her his hand and indicating for her to follow.

She'd never been snorkeling before, but it didn't take her long to get the hang of it. Before long she was swimming around looking at everything, delighting in the beauty of the ocean. She was completely overcome with the sights, and she found that it was easy to enjoy herself in the water, exploring.

After a while she stood still for a moment and poked her head out of the water to see where Damon was. Whilst she was standing there, a school of brightly colored black and yellow fish surrounded her; swimming in circles.

"Oh my goodness, Damon, you have to see this." She couldn't tamp down her excitement as she was surrounded by fish.

Damon quickly joined her, standing in front of her. She pointed to the fish swimming around her and laughed as they brushed against her leg, tickling her.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she asked him.

"Yes, extremely."

Something in his voice made her look at him. He was gazing at her intently. His dark hair was wet and slicked back off his face. She was so caught up in his eyes that when something brushed against her foot, it startled her. She squealed and then lunged forward into Damon. He laughed as his hands went around her waist.

"Something brushed against my foot," she mumbled, aware that this was the closest she'd been to him since their wedding day. Her bikini clad breasts were pressed into his naked chest and she could feel his hands at her hips, stroking her with his fingertips. His caress sent such intense heat through her that the water suddenly felt quite cool. Her body pulsed with need for him, and it was all she could do not to wrap her legs around him and demand he take her now. She couldn't do that, though; not after what he'd done. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but his hands held her tight. She looked up to find him staring at her lips.

"No," she said, as he leaned in ever so slightly. She hadn't intended that word to come out so breathy and inviting.

His eyes flicked upward and locked onto hers. For a moment she didn't move, then she wriggled harder.

"I wouldn't do that," he said in a voice that sounded strained to her. She was about to ask why, when she felt his erection nudging her. How typical, she thought, that he should find her resistance exciting. What was it she'd said about red flag to a bull?

"Let go of me, Damon," she said. This time her voice came out relatively firm, which was lucky because inside she felt like jello. She was relieved when he let her go, and swam away from her. Her keeping her distance emotionally depended on her ability to keep the distance between them physically. She wasn't sure at this point, however, just how long she could hold out for, or just how long he would let her.

"Come on," he said, after stopping for a moment, "There's plenty more to see."

He gave her a smile and motioned for her to follow him. She sighed before giving in and following him. Damon wasn't going to give her much of a chance to put any distance between them. Not anymore.

* * *

The next day he took her for a chartered helicopter ride around some of the islands before they picnicked next to one of the most beautiful waterfalls she'd ever seen. The day after that Damon showed her some of the local markets, and she found herself a lovely sarong and some souvenirs for her parents and Jeremy. Then finally the day came when they were leaving.

On one hand she was happy to be going home, but on the other hand she had actually just started to relax and enjoy herself a little bit. Still, at home Damon would go back to work, and she wouldn't have to spend so much time with him.

As they reached the main airport, she was just complimenting herself on getting through the entire honeymoon without sleeping with Damon, when his phone rang. He looked at his phone and frowned.

"Sorry, I wouldn't take this but it's Rose."

"Well, if it's Rose," she muttered sarcastically under her breath. He didn't hear her, however, because he'd already answered the phone and walked away. Elena couldn't help but feel a little miffed that he was taking what she could only assume was a work call on their honeymoon. It was silly for her to feel that way since she'd not treated this break away as a honeymoon, but it bothered her anyway.

When Damon came back, Elena thought he actually looked a little nervous.

"So," he said. He ran his hand through his hair, and looked at her. "I know I said we were going home, but I was wondering how you felt about a little detour for a few days or so. Something has come up with the business and it would be better if I could attend to it straight away. I'd prefer not to have to go home and fly out again."

"How little?" she asked.

"Italy," he told her. "I need to go to Italy."

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. Whilst on holiday, I realized how utterly addicted to fanfiction I am. Oh dear!

I hope my Aussie didn't show too much in this. I live in fear that I'll mess up an American term, so please let me know if I got something wrong. Thank you for reading and please review.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I really, really want to thank everyone for their reviews. Every chapter, you leave me such wonderful comments, and I read them and re-read them and feel all warm and mushy inside. Your continued support is amazing. For those of you who are reading this story, I'm so honored you're taking the time to do that. I'd also like to wish you a Happy New Year. I'd tell you how I saw in the new year, but it was really lame, and I'm too embarrassed.

One slightly violent thought in this chapter, and loads of dialogue. It's the longest chapter I've written, and I might have been a bit ambitious, but live and learn right?

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Elena picked up the travel brochure in the plane. She scanned over the information but quickly put it back when she came across the phrase; 'Italy – Place of Love'. What a joke, she thought. She should have said no. She should have told him that she wanted to go home, but she'd agreed to go to Italy with him for some absurd reason.

"Will Rose be joining us when we arrive?" she asked him.

"She'll arrive tomorrow. Why?"

"I suppose the honeymoon is officially over then?" She tried to keep her voice civil when for some strange reason she felt like snapping at him.

"I suppose it is," he said with a wry smile.

"So, will I be entertaining myself for the next few days?" she asked now.

"I hope not," he told her. "I'm hoping to wrap this up in a couple of days, and then I can show you around a bit. There are some amazing sights to see, not to mention some of the most mouth watering food you'll ever experience."

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here so he could fix a work related problem. Just because she'd agreed to accompany him to Italy didn't mean all was forgiven and everything was hunky-dory. It just meant she was sympathetic enough to understand he didn't want to fly back to America and then out to Italy. From what little he'd told her, it sounded urgent.

"Don't worry about me. I'll keep myself entertained. You focus on your work."

Damon looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you don't want to spend time with me?"

"I just want to get home as soon as possible."

"Very well," he said, returning his attention back to the paper he was reading. "If that's what you want."

* * *

Within forty-eight hours Elena realized she'd made a mistake by telling Damon to concentrate solely on work. For a start, she missed him. They'd spent the last three days in Tahiti together, and now she felt as if she was going through withdrawals because she hadn't seen much of him for the past two days. She should have been trying to get her head together, to keep her defenses intact; but she found herself wandering around the house aimlessly, counting the hours until he returned home. She felt…pitiful.

Antonietta was Damon's housekeeper and cook. She was lovely, but didn't speak much English. She frequently told Elena go out for a walk. "Too pale," Antonietta would tell her; "need sun." She'd gone for a brief walk yesterday, but that had been a mistake too. There were couples everywhere and she didn't need to see people in love; it reminded her of what she'd never have.

If none of that was bad enough, her attraction to her unloving husband seemed to be increasing. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Last night she'd dreamed about him. Her physical attraction to him was so strong that she'd come to a decision.

Elena rummaged through her suitcase, but couldn't find what she was after. Antonietta had unpacked most of her things away in the dresser, and she didn't know where it was. She zipped up her suitcase and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor, before marching over to the dresser to search through the drawers again. Finally she found it in the top drawer, buried under all of her undergarments. This would help her with her mission.

She removed all of her clothes and stepped into the lacy red and black teddy that Bonnie had made her buy from Victoria's Secrets. Damon would never be able to resist her in this.

It was going to happen. He'd told her it was inevitable. What were her options here? If she waited a month, and he came to her, he would seduce her. She didn't want to be seduced. She didn't want to have her no changed to a yes. If this was going to happen, they would do it her way; on her terms. She would go to him. She would have sex with him and keep her feelings turned off. Maybe if she thought about it as the business transaction it was, that would help.

After she did up all the fastenings, she walked over to the mirror and applied a small amount of make-up. She sprayed on her favorite perfume. Once she thought she was finished, she studied her appearance in the mirror. Finding herself passable, she donned a black dressing gown and made her way into his room. He should be home anytime now.

One hour later the phone rang. Elena knew that Antonietta had gone home for the day, so she picked it up. It was Damon. He told her he wouldn't be home for another hour. She went back into his room and waited for an hour. Once that hour was over, she waited for yet another hour. By that time she'd been waiting for three hours, and she felt remarkably stupid; stupid for having the idea in the first place, and stupid for spending that long waiting for a man. Was this what married life would be like when they got home? Would she spend her nights waiting for him to return home from work and his extremely beautiful P.A.?

Rose. She had been helpful and kind when Elena needed help planning the wedding; but that didn't mean the P.A. wasn't interested in Damon. What if Damon was so sexually frustrated that he decided to go to bed with Rose? She was suddenly bombarded by images of Rose spread across Damon's desk; of him taking her hard and fast while she cried out his name. The sudden urge to lop Rose's head off with a machete or something equally sharp and hopefully painful, was unexplainable and certainly undesirable.

She made her way to the kitchen and opened the cupboard, looking for something; anything that would help take away some of the anxiety she was feeling right now. Finally, her hand landed upon a bottle of wine. She took it out and looked at the label. Grappa. That should do the trick. She located a glass and poured a fair portion into it. She was well into her second glass when Damon arrived home.

"Well," she said, "is this what you call an hour later?"

Damon took one look at his wife and knew that the trouble at work was only the start of his troublesome night. She was almost swaying in her chair, a glass of wine in front of her. He didn't need this, not tonight.

Damon took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the dining room chair, before he removed his tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Then he walked over to Elena and picked up the bottle in front of her. Grappa. He shook his head.

"Where did you find this, Elena?"

"It was in the cupboard," she told him. "What else is a girl to do, when she's left alone for hours by her husband?"

The word husband was slightly slurred, but not enough to disguise the almost seductive quality to her voice. What had gotten into his wife, other than the Grappa?

"You said you wanted to go home as soon as possible. If I'm working around the clock it's because you wanted me to," he told her.

"I'm sure it's made all the more appealing by your oh so helpful personal assistant."

"Yes, Rose is helpful, and my job is made easier by her efficiency and dedication. So what?"

"And the fact that she is very beautiful has nothing to do with why you like spending time with her?"

"I would prefer to be spending time with you, Elena, but you made it quite clear you wanted me to focus on work. That is all I'm doing." He leaned over her, "I'll keep myself entertained,' is what you said."

Damon grabbed her glass, walked over to the sink and poured out the contents. He didn't want to tell the office he wasn't coming in tomorrow because his wife had alcohol poisoning. He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of ground coffee beans. Measuring the right amount for the two of them, he put the coffee into the coffee machine, added the water and turned it on. He would have preferred a nice stiff drink, but she needed to sober up, and coffee would have to do.

"How many glasses have you had?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I was waiting for you and I was drinking while I waited."

He opened the cupboard above his head and took out two large mugs, before walking over to the fridge and taking out cream.

"You were waiting for me? I called you. I told you I wouldn't be home for a while."

He poured the coffee into the mugs, added cream and sugar for Elena, and left his black.

"You said you'd be home in an hour. I waited an hour. When it became obvious you wouldn't be returning home any time soon, I found the Grappa."

He walked over to the table and handed her a mug before he sat down opposite her with his own coffee.

"Why were you waiting? Is everything okay? Did you call home?"

"Yes I called home. Everything was fine. Perfect. They wanted to hear all about how much I was enjoying myself, about how wonderful Tahiti was."

"What did you tell them?"

"What they wanted to hear."

He nodded. "Very wise of you," he murmured.

"Yes, I just love lying to my parents." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Confidentiality was always part of our agreement, Elena. You knew that when you signed the papers."

His words were cold; his voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Did he not realize what she'd done? Did he not realize what she'd given up? Did he have any idea how much this had affected her? Of course not. He didn't care about feelings. He was Mr logic.

"Of course, the agreement." She slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. "How could I be so stupid, to forget that I signed my life away for money; that I'm nothing but your whore?"

"If you were my 'whore', Elena, I would have slept with you by now. A whore wouldn't share my home with me."

She wanted to throw her coffee cup at his head.

"Am I supposed to be grateful that you're waiting? Am I supposed to be grateful for being given a roof over my head while I fulfil my duties? The only way to save my family was to marry you. The only way you would give me money was if I agreed to have your child. How did you think I would feel about this? What did you think I would feel about myself? I married a man who will never love me, for money. I agreed to sleep with him, for money. How could I not feel like a whore?"

He'd thought this night couldn't get worse; but now she was telling him she felt like a whore. Could he feel any lower than he did right now? Yes they had an arrangement, but the word prostitute had never entered his mind – not once. He realized now, however, that that was how she saw herself, and that was worse than almost anything else she could tell him. To be responsible for this woman disliking herself in anyway almost tore him to pieces.

"I never thought you'd feel that way. I thought it would be convenient for both of us. I never thought you'd see it as prostitution," he told her quietly.

His honest confession sounded so sincere and for a moment she wondered if it was regret she heard in his voice, before she decided she was mad. This man wasn't capable of regret.

"At the time when you made this proposal, we hardly knew each other at all. Stefan said you chose me because I look like Katherine and because you wanted to get back at him."

He wanted to grind his teeth together at the sound of his brother's name. Of course his brother would tell her that. He wanted to tell her that Stefan was a philandering and selfish twit, but running down his brother wouldn't win him any points with her.

"Is that what you believe?" he asked her instead.

"How should I know what to believe? I don't know you, Damon. Whenever I've asked you questions about yourself, you've brushed them off."

"Do you want to get to know me better?" He surprised himself by asking.

Elena looked at him as she sat back in her seat. If he'd asked her that question before their wedding she would have said yes without much hesitation. Now, however, she wondered if getting to know him better would be good for her at all. It was much easier to stay angry with the man she believed he was. What if getting to know him better shattered all her ideas about him?

"Of course if you're afraid to delve into the dark recesses of my mind, I understand," he told her.

"Why would I be afraid?" she asked, wondering if he'd guessed what she was thinking, and hoping that she wasn't that transparent.

"You might actually find you like me."

She struggled to hide her irritation that he'd been able to read her so clearly.

"Trust me, there's no chance of that happening," she told him.

"Then it's settled, tomorrow we'll have dinner, and I'll answer whatever questions you want to know."

"Any questions?"

"Any and all of them. I'll be an open book."

"Fine," she mumbled.

They sat in silence, drinking their coffee. Damon was staring out the window. It was completely dark out, and Elena wondered if he could actually see anything out there. She couldn't help but notice that he looked tired tonight; he looked weary. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look like that after work before.

"So, Dear, how was your day?" she asked, striving for half sarcastic and half sincere.

"Full of unpleasantness," he returned, keeping his eyes on the window.

Elena suspected he wasn't simply referring to work. Well, whatever animosity she had towards him, he deserved. Perhaps he deserved whatever happened at work too.

"What did you do to deserve such unpleasantness?"

He turned back to her, his eyes as cold as ice, his jaw and face impossibly tight. She instantly regretted her remark; not because she thought it was unfair, but because she'd never seen him look that angry before. Nor had she ever been on the receiving end of a look like that. It made her want to crawl underneath the table.

"What did I do to deserve such unpleasantness? I trusted someone is what I did, Elena. A young man in his twenties came to me several months ago. He told me that his wife had just given birth to a girl who had some rare disease I'd never heard of. He said he would have to leave my company to find a better paying job because he couldn't afford to pay for the care she needed on the wage that I was paying him. My wages are above average I might add, but understanding his plight I did some research and looked into the disease he'd mentioned. It was awful, heartbreaking. The child can need up to fifty operations and still may not live. Wanting to help in some way, I created a position in my company for him, with a bigger salary and added health benefits for him and his family. In this position he had access to some very sensitive information. Today I discovered he's been selling it to my business rivals. Oh and here's the kicker, he never had a sick daughter. His daughter was born perfectly healthy. Some would call me foolish for not double checking his story. Now, I can see that I was a fool; a fool for trusting him without proof. Stupidly, I didn't want to turn up on his doorstep, when he had so much to deal with already, to check he wasn't lying to me."

The anger and the hurt in his voice; the obvious betrayal he felt, were absolutely heartbreaking. Elena didn't know what to say. She felt sick to her stomach that someone would do something so cold. To lie about having a sick child just seemed so calculating. Her face must have shown her shock because he let out a small harsh laugh when he looked at her.

"Surprised to know I may not be the morally bankrupt man you thought I was? You asked me what I did to deserve such unpleasantness. I was asking myself the same question before I arrived home, but the answer is sitting right here facing me."

It took Elena a moment to realize he was talking about her.

"I blackmailed you into marrying me. What kind of person does that?"

He wasn't looking at her anymore. She assumed the question was a rhetorical one, which was good because she had no words for him.

"I never meant it to come to what it did. I never wanted you to feel like some kind of prostitute, Elena."

This time she knew it was regret she heard.

"It's done now, Damon. You can't take it back, no matter how much you might want to."

He looked at her now.

"Do you think…? Can you ever forgive me?"

"I…I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Will you try?" he asked her.

"I'll think about it."

He nodded, accepting her answer.

She picked up her coffee cup, and was about to stand up when he gently took hold of her wrist.

"You never told me why you were waiting for me."

She remembered her earlier plan. There was no way she could go through with it. She didn't hate him. She wanted to hate him. She should hate him; but she didn't. Her emotions were all over the shop when it came to this man. Sleeping with Damon while trying to control her emotions, would be like lighting a bonfire and trying to contain it while pouring gasoline on it. Somehow she already felt like he'd slipped through one of her barriers tonight. She didn't want him to slip through any more.

"It's not important," she told him.

He let her wrist go, but she sensed his reluctance to do so. He pushed back his chair, grabbed his coffee cup, and joined her at the sink.

Still feeling like the emotions between them were running high, she wanted space.

"Why don't you go to bed?" she asked him. "You've had a long day. I'll wash these up."

She ran a tiny bit of hot soapy water and put the mugs in there. Instead of leaving, he picked up a tea towel.

"Seriously, billionaires don't dry dishes, do they?" she asked him.

"Technically, you're a billionaire too. So you tell me."

"No, I'm married to a billionaire. There's a difference."

"We're married. What's mine is yours."

She thought he was joking, but when she looked at him she realized he was deadly serious.

"You take this whole marriage thing pretty seriously don't you?"

"I do," he said. "Everything I have, I will share with you. If you want me to."

Except your heart, Elena thought.

Once they were finished, Damon put down the tea towel and he turned around to leave, before turning back to her for a moment.

"You asked me if I chose you because you look like Katherine."

She was momentarily confused by the change of topic before she nodded.

"It's true you look a lot like Katherine, but…"

He broke off mid-sentence and stared at her. She looked down to find her dressing gown was gaping at the front and he was looking at the black and red teddy she'd worn to seduce him. The lust and desire in his eyes as he looked at her, hit her like a freight train. She pulled the dressing gown so it covered her, but it was too late, her face felt like it was on fire, and the rest of her body was heating up all too quickly at the look on his face.

"You were waiting for me in that?" he asked her so huskily that it sent heat pulsing straight to her core.

How was she going to explain this?

"It's what I sleep in," she said.

"Mm-hmm," he said with a smirk, walking slowly towards her.

"You wanted me to see you in this. Why?" he asked.

Perhaps honesty was the only way to go.

"I was going to seduce you, but…"

"Mission accomplished," he said softly, as he lowered his lips to hers.

Things spiraled quickly. His hands went inside her robe, stroking her body through the lace. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers for some time before he nuzzled her neck. He found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and he sucked her there softly, causing her nipples to pebble in immediate response. He cupped her bottom with his hands and pulled her flush against his erection. The feel of his hardness against her, made her body throb with need. She ground her hips against his, feeling feverish all over. She was growing wetter and wetter by the second. All she could think about was how much she needed him; how much she wanted him.

Then, without any warning, he stopped kissing her.

"You said but," he said to her breathlessly.

"What?" she couldn't for the life of her work out what he was saying, or why he'd stopped.

"You said, 'I was going to seduce you, but…,"

After he'd aroused her beyond belief, he wanted to stop and discuss what she had been going to say before he'd cut her off by kissing her.

"But…I changed my mind," she finished quietly. He took his hands off her and took a small step backwards. Things obviously wouldn't be going any further tonight, but she couldn't understand why. If anyone should have been stopping things between them it was her. Why hadn't he taken advantage of her willingness to sleep with him?

"Why did you stop? I would have…"

"I know. But after everything you've said tonight, I don't want this to be something that you regret. I don't want you to wake up in the morning and feel disgust with either yourself or with me. I want you more than anything," he told her, again pulling her against him, so she could feel just how hard he was for her. The action made her gasp. "But I don't want you to feel regret."

"What if that never happens?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "All I can hope for is that eventually you stop hating me; eventually maybe you will even come to like me."

"What if it takes longer than a month?" she asked.

"Then I'll be in for a lot of cold showers and a lot of hand relief." His smile was so gorgeous; her heart felt like it was melting. He was giving her more time.

She pulled her robe back around her and tied the sash tightly.

"I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

Damon brushed one last soft kiss on her lips. "Goodnight, Elena. Sleep well."

She gave him a polite smile before she turned away and walked to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her, sat down on the bed, and tried to work out what had just happened between them. He regretted his actions. It shouldn't matter to her; he'd done something nobody should do, yet it did matter. It was something – a start anyway. He'd asked her if she could forgive him, and she'd said she would think about it. He was giving her more time. He didn't want her to have regrets. He didn't want her to feel disgust with herself or with him.

And he took marriage seriously. She'd already guessed that much, but she'd never realized just how much he thought of the institution. If he was talking about sharing everything with her, then he couldn't just think of her as a possession, could he? It seemed the whole reason he wanted a wife was to have someone to share his life and things with him. There was almost a sense of loneliness and solitude about the man that she'd never picked up on before. What else had she missed?

Her head whirled as their conversation played over in her mind. The story he'd told her about his employee showed he had compassion. He couldn't be some unfeeling monster if he was prepared to help someone out like that. She wanted to think of Damon as heartless, but he wasn't. And if he wasn't the monster she made him out to be, what was going to stop her from falling in love with him?

* * *

The next day he called her just after midday.

"What is it?" she asked him, worried that he was again going to be detained by work, or worse, that something else had gone wrong.

"I've done everything I can do regarding this situation at work. What happens now is up to the solicitors and police."

He paused, waiting for some acknowledgment from her.

"Does that mean we'll be leaving Italy shortly?" she asked him, wondering why instead of feeling pleased she felt a small amount of disappointment.

"I've been in touch with the airline. We can leave late this evening."

He paused again, and Elena wondered what he was going to say next.

"But," she prompted.

"But I have some things; some places here that I'd really like to show you. And I still want us to have dinner tonight. I want you to get to know me, Elena. But it's up to you. If you want to leave tonight, we can. If you want to stay for a couple more nights, we can. This decision is up to you."

He was giving her a choice. For the first time since they'd started their 'relationship' he was letting her decide on something. She felt like he was trying to put their relationship back on the right track. He was indirectly asking her for a second chance.

For a short moment she wanted to say no – self preservation was highly desirable; but she was fast realizing the futility of fighting what was between them. The physical and emotional connection between them was so strong, that it could only be denied for so long. It was going to win out in the end and all she could do was say yes, and prepare herself for the roller coaster ride that she was about to be taken on. She'd discovered that she didn't like to be out of control, however, she'd also discovered that this thing between them couldn't be contained; it couldn't be controlled.

"Okay," she told him.

"Okay, you'll stay?" she could hear the thinly veiled hope in his voice.

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Okay then, how about I book tickets for three days time?"

"Fine," she said.

"I'll be home no later than six tonight. I've still got some paperwork to complete, but it shouldn't take me long."

"I'll see you then," she replied.

He said goodbye and she hung up. So this was it then; she was making a conscious decision to explore whatever was between them, no holding back. Her head screamed danger, but for some crazy reason her heart seemed to be doing a little dance at the idea of being allowed to finally feel what it wanted, without a limit being placed on it.

* * *

A/N: I'm aware that some of you will think I'm going too fast and some of you think I'm going too slow. I've had to settle into a pace that I'm comfortable with (loosely based of the Mills & Boon).

As always, I love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading, and please review.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Another long chapter (for me), longer than the last one, and again ambitious. The response from reviewers to last chapter was so positive that I stopped worrying you guys would find a long chapter boring. This chapter is a definite M for adult themes and one extremely embarrassing adult conversation. I wanted to write something about Mills & Boon here for everyone who has asked me about them or has no idea what I'm talking about, but since this chapter is so long, I thought I'll wait till next chapter.

This chapter launches straight into dinner, because there is a lot to get through.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"Favorite color?"

"Black."

"That's not a color."

"Fine then, blue.

"Favorite movie?"

"Don't have one."

"Come on, Damon. You have to have a favorite movie."

"I don't watch movies. I don't have time."

"I hope you're going to make time when we get home. I like movies."

She wanted him to watch movies with her? That would be different, Damon thought, though not entirely unappealing.

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "We're not talking romantic movies though are we, because they're kind of sappy and lame."

She rolled her eyes.

"They're not lame. They're mind numbing fluff that I happen to enjoy."

"What's you favorite movie then?" he asked her.

"Uh-uh, tonight's about you."

"What, I can't ask what your favorite movie is?"

"Fine. It's Pretty Woman," she told him.

"Pretty Woman?" he frowned "Isn't that the movie where Julia Roberts is a prostitute?"

Elena flushed a soft pink remembering how she'd told him last night she thought of herself as a whore.

"Yes, but it's…it's like a fairytale."

"A fairytale?"

"It's about a man rescuing a woman, and she rescues him right back."

He was clearly puzzled, judging by the expression on his face, but Elena didn't want to delve into anymore detail. This night was about him anyway.

"Do you play an instrument?" she asked now, trying to move the conversation along.

"A little bit of guitar, and I used to play piano."

"The piano?"

Somehow Elena just couldn't see it, though Damon did have long fingers that she imagined would skilfully master any instrument they played.

"My father made both Stefan and I learn piano when we were younger."

It was impossible not to notice the way his voice hardened a little when he mentioned his father.

"What was your father like?" she asked him softly.

"My father was an exceptional businessman."

She waited for more information but no more was forthcoming.

"And as a father?" she prompted.

"From as early as I can remember, I was being groomed to take over the company from him. I was seen as the heir to his fortune and therefore a lot was expected of me. Any undesirable behavior I displayed was seen as weakness which needed to be eradicated as soon as possible. While Stefan got handshakes and box seats at sporting events, I got beatings and extra schooling."

Damon stopped for a moment and remembered the beatings he'd experienced as a boy, as well as cruel and unusual punishments for behavior that most would consider normal for a child. His father had expected perfection from his firstborn and anything else had been unacceptable. He tried to close the floodgates to the memories. He didn't want to stroll down memory lane tonight.

"My God, Damon, that's…that's awful,"

He didn't need or want her pity. He'd spent enough time as a boy feeling sorry for himself. It was the past. Besides, he was who he was today because of his father. He was tough; he was a survivor, and he would never have known what he was capable of surviving if it wasn't for Giuseppe Salvatore.

"_You're too soft, Damon. You need to toughen up_," his father would tell him.

He hadn't believed him at the time, but hadn't time proved over and over again that when he let his guard down, he made mistakes. He'd made a mistake by trusting his employee. He'd made a mistake by trusting Katherine. Now he was being forced to trust Elena and let her in.

He didn't want to let her in at all. He wanted to keep the door firmly shut between them, but she'd edged it open a fraction and he had no choice but to trust her a little. The definition of insanity was doing something the same way and expecting different results. Things weren't working between them. She was miserable, and so he was faced with a decision; either he let down his guard, or he'd lose her. She was staying because he'd threatened her. She was his because he'd blackmailed her. But what happened when or if she called his bluff? What happened when her misery and grief drove her away, or made her sick? He didn't want to lose her.

He didn't understand how this woman had made him need her. His father would consider him weak and foolish for wanting another human being, but being with Elena made him feel less lonely, and as much as he wanted to push her away and say he didn't need a darn thing, some part of him was telling him to hold onto her and never let go. So here he was, doing his best to take down some of the carefully constructed walls that he'd built because it was required, and take a leap of faith. It was not a comfortable feeling.

Right now she was looking at him as if he was a small fragile boy. He didn't like it.

"I got my own back for a while," he told her. "As soon as I turned eighteen I left home and went to college. I bought a motorcycle, bedded every woman within a hundred mile radius and partied hard enough that it reached the papers. My father was naturally enraged." He smiled now remembering how angry his father had been. "He threatened to cut me off and disown me, but my mother wouldn't allow it."

Elena could just imagine Damon riding a motorbike and sleeping his way through an entire population of women. Yes, her husband was a very experienced man indeed. She didn't even want to try and guess at his number of conquests.

"What was your mother like?" she asked him now, trying not to imagine Damon in the middle of an orgy with half a city.

"My mother was normally a softly spoken woman who enjoyed being a wife and mother. She allowed my father to have his way most of the time, but there were times when she stood up to him and let her fire show. They were few and far between though."

"In other words she rarely got involved between you and your father?"

"My father was somehow able to convince her that his way of dealing with me was the best way. I could see sometimes that she wanted to disagree; that she wanted to go against him, but she was deeply in love with him and she came from a family where women did as they were told, and that included following their husband's orders. My father's compromise with her was that they would have another child, one that she could coddle and baby as much as she wanted to."

"Stefan," she said quietly.

Elena understood all too clearly that love and affection had been withheld from this man as a child. Her heart went out to him. Not only had his father been physically and emotionally brutal with him, from the sounds of it, but his mother, who should have been there to nurture and protect him, was unable to do so due to some misplaced sense of wifely duty. Then he'd had a brother who had swooped in and freely been given everything that had been withheld from him. She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She looked down and fidgeted with her serviette, desperate to get herself under control.

Was it any wonder, he didn't place much value on love. She wondered if he had ever really experienced love, unconditional or otherwise. How could that not affect him? Don't give love and don't worry about not receiving it. Then when he had finally taken a chance and opened his heart to someone, Katherine, things had ended very badly.

"You still ended up at the helm of Salvatore Industries. I'm surprised you didn't turn it down after everything," she said to him, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"I wanted to," he told her. "I refused at first. When my father was dying I told him I didn't want it. My mother, however, pleaded and begged me to take my inheritance. She told me that I had worked too hard and endured too much not to take what was rightfully mine. She was so distraught that I found myself agreeing just to silence her. On the day that I agreed to take my place at the top, my father passed away. His last words to me were, "Don't let this be another one of your disappointments, son."

She was speechless. What was she supposed to say to him? She had been afraid to get to know him better, and on an instinctive level she had known why. Delving into the dark recesses of Damon's mind, as he had phrased it, she was fast learning that Damon Salvatore was a complicated man, a difficult man, and a man that needed to be loved even if he didn't know it. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest.

Everything about Damon had screamed danger; danger and sex. Even on her wedding day, she'd known she should get the hell out of there. But it was too late, she'd married him, she'd agreed to give him a second chance and get to know him. And here was the problem, she'd known as soon as the hate was gone, as soon as the resentment had vanished there was just a man in front of her that was capable making her feel far too much. Her falling in love with Damon wasn't a choice. It was going to happen. And when she did fall in love with him, she finally really understood that he may never love her back, he may not be even capable of loving her back. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

She looked at him to find him watching her, waiting for her reaction to his words. His face was tense and she could only guess at what it was costing him to tell her. She imagined he didn't tell many people about his relationship with his father.

"I don't know what to say, Damon," she told him honestly.

He shrugged.

"From the first day I took over from Dad it felt right. I've never looked back. He prepared me well for the role."

Elena wanted to disagree with him, she wanted to tell him that his father had been heartless and cruel to deprive his son of warmth and affection, but obviously could not. It made her question his thoughts on children. She knew several men who had experienced turbulent relationships with their father, and said they themselves would never become parents because they didn't want to turn out like their fathers. Obviously Damon did not fit that category.

"Why do you want children?" she asked him, hating how blunt the question came out but needing to ask it anyway.

He sipped at his wine and took a moment to think about her question.

"I suppose I've always seen children as part of my future. I'm thirty now, and I want to have my children and enjoy them. I don't want to be too old or tired or sick to run around and play football with them and do all the stuff that matters."

"You said you wanted an heir when you offered this marriage."

"It's true I want someone to take over from me, but I want children for the simple pleasure of having them."

"What about love?" she asked him.

"What about love?"

"You said love is an emotion you can do without. Will you love our children?"

She felt heat bloom in her belly as well as a strange sense of anticipation and excitement at the thought of having children with this man; of carrying his child inside her.

He smiled; a very tender smile that she had never seen him wear before.

"Yes, Elena, I will love our children. Falling in love with someone is completely different to loving a child."

She agreed with him but she wanted to know more. "How so?"

"Falling in love with someone by its very definition means the whole world tilts off its axis while you are increasingly blind to every one of their flaws, and are so consumed by them you can barely think straight. Loving a child is a healthy, normal feeling that allows you to adequately care for and protect your child."

"Do you have any intention of grooming your firstborn for the role they are going to take over?"

"If you're asking me if I have any intention of acting like my father, the answer is no. I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for him, but I have no desire to repeat his parenting in anyway."

She nodded, happy enough with the answers he'd given her. At least she could feel confident that he would try and be a different father than his dad, and that he wouldn't withhold love from their children.

"So that covers colors, movies, musical instruments, family and children. What's next?" he asked her.

Elena mentally moved down the brief list she'd thought up today. Her next question was more of a topic that she was not looking forward to bringing up. It was very intimate, and more than a little embarrassing. It had to be asked though. It should have been asked before, but she'd put it off to avoid talk about them sleeping together. She tried to think about the best way to phrase it before she decided the best way was simply to just to come right out and say it.

"Are you clean?" she asked, unable to stop herself from blushing profusely.

"Am I clean?" he asked, his confusion clear.

"You're obviously very experienced." She felt her face becoming even hotter. This was so embarrassing. "You've had countless bedroom partners. I need to know if it's safe to go to bed with you. Am I going to wind up with an STD if I sleep with you?"

"Oh," he said, finally understanding what she was asking. He smirked and she felt relieved he wasn't angry or offended she'd asked him. If anything he looked ridiculously at ease considering how awkward she felt. It made her wonder just how many times he'd had this conversation. "Well I would be lying if I said I always practiced safe sex when I was younger, but as an adult I've always worn protection and I have myself tested fairly regularly."

"When was the last time you were tested?"

"Before we got married."

"Do you have the paperwork?" she asked him, aware that her face was probably the same color as a tomato, but pressing on regardless.

"Yes, but it's at home. As in my home in America."

She nodded.

"What about you, Elena, are you clean?" he asked, lips twitching, eyebrows raised. "Can I trust you?"

"I'm clean," she said without any hesitation.

"When was the last time you were tested?"

"A week before our wedding," she told him. "I've…I've only had two sexual partners."

Elena groaned inwardly. Why had she told him that?

Damon sighed quietly with relief. If she had had herself tested before their wedding, then that meant she hadn't picked something up from Stefan. Damon was quite sure that his brother probably hadn't worn a raincoat when he slept with his other women. Pleasure was his brother's number one priority and Stefan had told him that he didn't sleep with women if they made him use a rubber.

"Does it bother you?" he asked her.

"What?"

"The fact that you've only had two lovers. You said it very defensively."

"No," she answered quickly. "I mean, it's just that you've obviously had so many and…" she trailed off, not knowing what she was saying and feeling her face turn pick again decided she should just keep her mouth shut.

"Does my experience bother you?" he asked.

"No," she said, but when he looked like he didn't believe her, she decided to be honest. "It's a little overwhelming," she admitted.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said to her, "when I'm with you I feel as fumbly as a virgin," he admitted.

"Fumbly? Is that even a word, Damon?"

"I'm not sure, but you get my drift."

It was her turn to smirk. He hadn't had to tell her that, but the truth was it did make her feel a little bit better. He was looking at her now, and it was such a knowing look; such a sexual look, that she found herself reaching for her wine and chugging down a good portion of it. Both of them were thinking about sex. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid by not bringing this conversation up sooner.

The rest of their dinner passed quickly. The wine was free-flowing; the pasta incredible, and the conversation riveting. She asked him questions until he eventually smiled at her, told her question time was over, and said he wanted to take her home.

She didn't complain; not even when he kissed her goodnight so passionately that her legs stopped working and she stumbled back to her bedroom. She'd asked him most of the questions on her list. It wasn't until she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed that she realized that she had forgotten to ask him about something very important; Katherine. She would have to ask him about Katherine another time.

* * *

The next morning they were up early to explore some of Italy.

"Three days is nowhere near long enough to fully experience Italy and all its magic, Elena. We'll have to come back here when I'm on holiday so I can show you some of the big sites," Damon told her as they drove out to Tuscany.

Elena couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she would miss the big tourist attractions, but Damon said he wanted to show her some of his favorite places and it pleased her that he wanted to share them with her.

The first place he took her to was a vineyard in Tuscany, owned by friends of his.

"No, Elena, watch me.'

Elena watched as he swirled the glass in his hand before literally sticking his nose inside the glass and breathing in. "You try," he told her.

Elena did as he had shown her. She moved the glass around, swirling the dark red liquid, and then feeling a little bit silly she put her nose in the glass and inhaled deeply.

"Mmm," she said to him, not sure what else to say.

"Try again. Take quick full sniffs and tell me what you smell."

"It smells like wine," she told him after repeating the action.

"What else can you smell in there?" he asked her.

She felt like she was failing an exam. She again put her nose in the glass and tried desperately to find the answer.

"There is no right answer. You can say whatever you want when it comes to wine-tasting. What's the first thing that comes to mind?"

"Wood," she said to him. "Like oak. It smells woody,"

He smiled now and she felt like she'd just had a star put on her school report.

"What else?" he asked her.

"Chocolate. It smells a little bit like chocolate."

He nodded, evidently enjoying the fact that she was trying.

"Okay, now take a sip and swill it in your mouth. Then open your mouth and breathe through the wine."

He stopped talking and demonstrated. After he swallowed, he said to her; "We could spit it out, but that's a waste of perfectly good wine."

Once she tasted the wine she totally agreed with him. She couldn't believe she was drinking at ten in the morning, but she was enjoying it regardless. They sampled multiple bottles but Damon stopped swallowing after a while to remain sober enough to drive.

"Okay," Damon said after she started giggling a little, "I think we should finish up here."

By the time they hit the road again, Elena was feeling just a little bit tipsy, and as she leaned back into the leather seat of Damon's Ferrari, she found it more than just a little bit difficult to not watch her husband. She wondered how he would react if she put her hand on his thigh just to touch him.

He looked at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking because his sunglasses were too dark for her to see his eyes, but he was smiling at her, and the sun was shining on him, and Elena thought that no man should have been made that beautiful. She shifted in her seat all too aware of how her body seemed to react to his so strongly. She smiled briefly back at him before turning to look out her side of the car. She wondered if once she slept with him, her head might clear a little and she could think about something other than having sex with her husband.

For lunch he took her to a pizzeria.

"Oh my God, Damon this is the best pizza I've ever had."

"I know." Was his simple reply before he wiped a bit of sauce off her lip. She blamed the alcohol for what she did next. Her tongue darted out to lick the sauce off his finger, and she watched with both excitement and fear as his eyes darkened with desire.

In the afternoon they went on a bike ride through the hills. The countryside was like nothing she'd ever seen before and the air so warm and fresh, she couldn't help but enjoy herself. Damon pointed out various places he'd been to and visited. In the late afternoon he pulled out a picnic basket filled with cheeses, olives, semi-dried tomatoes, wine (again), fruit and bread and they had an early dinner. She allowed him to feed her several times while he told her more about his college days, and she couldn't stop laughing as he filled her in on some of the antics he got up to with Mason back in those days.

When they arrived home, Elena should have been exhausted by her day out, but instead she felt exhilarated. She'd laughed, tried new things and very much enjoyed the company of her husband. Damon. Just thinking about him made her skin flush and her excitement mount. She felt as if she had been in a semi-state of arousal all day. So when he suggested that she go upstairs and change into her bikini and join him in the pool, she had agreed, thinking she couldn't sleep at the moment anyway, and a swim might relax her a little and help her wind down.

Once dressed, she stood at the side of the pool for a moment and watched Damon swim laps, his powerful body ploughing through the water easily. As if sensing she was there, Damon stopped right in front of her.

"Are you getting in?" he asked her. The question sounded innocent enough but felt more like a dare.

As soon as she used the steps and walked into the large pool, she realized her mistake. If she'd wanted any relief from the desire she was experiencing, she would get none in here. His eyes locked with hers and he walked towards her. When he was standing right in front of her he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him.

"Damon," she cried out.

"Yes," he said softly. His eyes lingered on her lips. She pushed away from him.

"Race you," she said to him, frantically swimming towards the end of the pool. The adrenalin had kicked in, and as she raced towards the wall she felt her heart hammering. Beside her she felt him move past her easily, and when she got the wall he was already there. Damn.

They both stared at each other.

"Looks like I win," he said to her, "what's my prize?"

"What do you want?" Elena asked him, pushing her wet hair out of her face.

"You do realize what a dangerous question that is for you to ask me?"

She gulped. She knew what he wanted. But for the first time since they were married, she felt like they were on the same page. It was inevitable; it was irresistible, and she needed him so badly that she could not imagine getting through tonight without giving her body what it needed.

"I want to be dangerous for once," she told him.

And then she was in his arms and he was kissing her so slowly, and with so much heat that she felt as if her body might explode into flames at any moment. As his tongue dipped into her mouth, she moaned and moved into him, finding it easy in the water to wrap her legs around him. The hot hard length of him pushed against her aching and sensitive core. He groaned and moved against her. The friction was so erotic, and so not enough to satisfy her.

He broke their kiss for a moment to untie the string around her neck holding her bikini top up. As it fell down she felt the breeze on her bare breasts, felt her nipples harden in response, saw his eyes darken, and moaned as he brushed his thumbs across the taut peaks. Her body jerked in response, thrusting against him. His hard length rubbed against her again, making her need that much deeper; that much stronger.

He dipped his head and captured one of her nipples in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before turning his attention to her other breast. Her head went back as he feasted on her. 'Fumbly' he was not. One hand stroked her breast now as the other hand moved down to cup her sex, caressing her through her bikini bottoms. He moved the material aside, so he could touch her better. He gently played with her, caressing and stroking softly at first, then faster and firmer, sliding his finger inside of her. She stopped moving altogether, drawing in short shallow breaths as she felt the sensations in her body building, her heart beating uncontrollably as she closed her eyes and waited for the release that was so close.

"Oh God, Damon," she cried out, her hips jerking spasmodically as her orgasm crashed over her. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. She could barely breathe when he wrenched his mouth away from hers.

"I need to be inside you, Elena. Now." Anyone else would have heard those words as a demand, but she heard his question.

She clung to him, feeling completely and utterly liquefied after that orgasm.

"Yes," was all she said to him. He studied her face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but she knew he would find none.

"No regrets?" he asked her.

"No regrets," she answered.

How could she know what she would feel tomorrow? She didn't. What she did know was that she needed him; wanted him more than her next breath. He had awakened a burning desire and hunger in her that she was still getting used to, and she hadn't learned to control it yet; she hadn't learned to resist her need for him. And so willingly she resigned herself to falling head first into this experience of going to bed with her husband.

He released her, and she wondered for a moment where he was going before she watched him pull himself out of the water with little effort. Sitting on the side of the pool, he held out his hand to her. She swam over and gave her hand to him, letting him pull her out of the water. He stopped for a moment to give her a particularly bone melting kiss, before he stood up and picked up a discarded towel on a pool chair and slung it over her shoulders, attempting to dry her a little before he picked up a second towel and wrapped it around himself.

They hurried inside, her body still hot and aroused from his touch, her insides still aching for him. They barely made it more than two steps at a time without him grabbing her and kissing her.

He led her into his bedroom.

"Should we shower first?" she asked him.

"Can't wait," he told her, the undisguised raw need in his voice sent a fresh wave of pure lust slamming through her.

She let her towel drop to the floor, and watched as his gaze raked over her, heating every inch of her flesh. Her bikini top was still hanging on underneath her breasts, so she unhooked it at the back and let it also drop to the floor. Whenever she had thought about their first time together, she imagined herself filled with nerves and overcome with shyness. Now though, she was filled with so much desire for the man in front of her that she felt no inhibition. She proceeded to slide down her bikini bottoms and step out of those so that she was naked and ready for her husband.

"I can't wait any longer either," was her reply.

Then his hands were on her and his mouth was on her, possessive and hungry, and all she could do was feel; feel how much she wanted this, how much she wanted him. She put her mouth to his shoulder, brushing a kiss there, before letting herself taste his flesh, loving the way he said her name so roughly when she did something he liked. She stroked his upper body with her hands, before flicking her tongue over one of his nipples and blowing on it. She was rewarded with his quick intake of breath.

She hadn't even been aware Damon had been moving them towards the bed until she felt the mattress behind her knees. She fell backwards. Damon followed her onto the bed. He kissed her deep and hard on the mouth before he licked and nipped his way down her body. She trembled, when he licked around her navel, and couldn't help the small moan that escaped her as his mouth moved lower and lower still, until he was between her legs giving her a far more intimate kiss. She tried not to twist and buck, as his tongue worked her back up to a climax. She looked down her body to see him looking back at her, as he did exquisite things to her with his tongue. She came harder this time, and when he re-emerged he was wearing a look of pure male satisfaction.

"I need you," she told him desperately, because it still wasn't enough. Now that they'd started she didn't even know if she would ever have enough of him. After two orgasms tonight her body felt even hungrier for him. She reached out to grab him, relieved that somewhere along the way, he'd shed his own shorts. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked him, stopping only to collect his pre-cum on the palm of her hand so she could rub her hand up and down the length of him more easily. He stopped her quickly though, putting his hand on top of hers.

"God, Elena, I won't last. You have no idea what you're doing to me."

It was the first time she'd ever heard him sound so pressed for control and she liked very much that he was so affected by what they were doing. He knelt on the bed beside her and opened the top drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a condom. She was surprised for a moment, before she remembered their conversation from last night. He was using protection because he thought she needed proof he was safe.

"It's alright Damon, I trust you." He looked surprised for a minute, before putting it down. She did trust him, she realized, but she also wanted to feel him inside of her. "I don't want anything between us," she told him.

He gave her a hot lingering kiss before he positioned himself between her legs, and Elena wrapped her legs around his hips, and waited for him to enter her. No matter how much she had thought about the moment, or felt she was ready, nothing prepared her for the swift emotion that lodged itself in her throat as he thrust into her powerfully, joining them so completely. The emotion of finally having him inside of her, of everything she'd felt for him up until now, combined with the physical pleasure he was giving her, made her close her eyes. She wanted to shut out some of the intensity she was feeling but the way he was moving inside of her made her feel everything so acutely; inside her heart, inside her body. She felt the tension in her body mounting and felt her muscles start to squeeze around him. They came together as he thrust into her and cried out her name. It was such a shattering feeling that Elena was surprised to find herself still in one piece at the end of it.

When he withdrew from her, she felt very cold. Noticing her shiver, he tucked her in against him and pulled a blanket over them. Neither Damon's body heat, or the blanket, however, could shut-out the cold she was experiencing. Her question had been answered. Sex with Damon had been absolutely positively shattering, and she wouldn't hesitate in the slightest to do it all over again.

* * *

A/N: That talk about STDs almost killed me. I think it's the most embarrassing thing I've ever written, but Mills & Boon always cover safe sex, and I wanted to be true to that.

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. It's been a tough job getting this chapter out today, but the response to last chapter was again overwhelming and inspiring (I know you guys hear that all the time, but it's true). Thanks for reading and please review.


	8. Chapter 8

I found the following information under Mills & Boon on Wikipedia, under critical opinion. None of it is paraphrased, it is taken directly as a quote. For more information about the history, publishing and line, please find the information at Wikipedia, or on the Mills & Boon website.

_"The company has been criticised for repeating plots, the inevitability of their happy endings, and a simple writing style[citation needed], while fans have cited predictability as a key reason for reading.[2][3]_

_Some critics have claimed that the genre promotes misogyny and the sexual submission of women to men, pointing particularly to the comments by one of Mills & Boon writers, Violet Winspear in 1970 that all her heroes had to be "capable of rape".[4]_

_The books are highly branded and are often in a separate section of bookshops and libraries from the other paperback fiction and romance novels. Common themes are rich, ennobled and initially unattainable males (often of Mediterranean—especially Greek—origin), the desire of a character to have a baby (with this being thwarted by infertility or an unsympathetic husband), and the breakup and mending of a relationship."_

A/N: Now for the chapter. I have attempted to keep this tasteful. I have tried to avoid over the top sexual references. That said, this chapter does pretty much revolve around...you know. This chapter picks up right where we left off._  
_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Damon lay in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his wife. He didn't know if she was asleep, since she was facing the wall and not him.

She'd finally given into the passion between them. It had only a matter of time. They had chemistry; they had attraction, and he had no idea how he had had managed to keep his promise and hold out this long.

Being with Elena wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced in his life. Sex he'd had plenty of, but nothing, nothing, had ever been like sleeping with Elena. Going to be bed with her, tasting her, kissing her was different. He didn't know why.

Maybe it was simply because she was his wife. Maybe it was because he had had to wait so long to have her. He didn't know, and he didn't understand the connection they'd shared tonight. He'd thought the sex would be good, but it was indescribable. It was beyond words. It was addictive. Yes that was the word for it. He wanted her again, so badly, that if he didn't think she was so tired, he would roll her over again, and goes for round two, round three, round…well whatever he could get up to without her complaining.

She moved restlessly against him. He hoped she wasn't too uncomfortable. He had a raging hard-on that wouldn't quit. She wriggled slightly, and he cursed himself for not being able to make it go down. His body, however, would not be told to go to sleep or relax. It didn't help that her delectable naked bottom was pressed so tightly against him. He was pulsing, throbbing with need. He heard her sigh.

"Damon," she said softly.

"Yes," he said in a strained sort of whisper.

"Your…you know is digging into me."

His 'you know'?

"Seriously Elena, I wouldn't have called you prudish before now."

His comment got exactly the response he was after; she pushed away from him and turned around to face him. He put his hand on her hip. She didn't push it away.

"I'm not prudish," she said, clearly offended.

"My 'you know'?"

"What?" she said heatedly. "Should I call it your cock?" she asked him. He groaned. Hearing her say the word cock just made him harder. "Or should I call it your dick, your woody, your throbbing member, your one eyed trouser snake, your purple veined yogurt pumper?"

He laughed. Purple veined yogurt pumper? He shifted, so he was closer to her, his aching manhood coming awfully close to nuzzling into the soft wet curls at the junction of her thighs.

"Obviously you aren't tired," she told him, "I think I should go and sleep in my bed tonight."

He wasn't letting her out of this bed, not now that he knew what he'd been missing out on.

"No, there's only one thing that will help me sleep," he told her, again moving closer to her. He was so close now; so close to her wet heat that it was an effort to restrain himself.

"Do you always get your way in the bedroom?" she asked him sweetly.

"Every time," he told her, with such a smirk she knew he wasn't kidding.

"Well, that's about to change."

With that she threw the cover off and sat up, but he sat up next to her, grabbed her hips and dragged her across him so she was effectively sitting in his naked lap, the outside of her thigh brushing against his erection.

She turned to face him, "Damon…"

He cut her off by kissing her. She resisted for a full second before she kissed him back. There was a very obvious reason he always got his way in the bedroom, Elena thought, he was just so darn good in it. His hands were doing amazing things to her body while his kiss was so intense and thorough she thought she might actually climax from it.

He gently turned her so she was straddling him, and finding the hard length of him so close to her hands, she couldn't resist wrapping her hands around him and giving him a light tug. He growled and grabbed her hips tighter. She smiled with pleasure, all thoughts of getting out of bed gone completely. He slipped his hand between her thighs to stroke her. She felt extremely sensitive there after his previous attention, but that just increased her pleasure. He knew exactly how to touch her, exactly what she needed. She moved against his hand, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him inside her, and his fingers on her. As if understanding her need, he pulled her hips so that the tip of him was pressing just inside of her. She was so wet that it was an effort to stop from sliding on to the length of him, but she wanted to savor it and savor him. She moved her hips in a circle, teasing him. He didn't let her tease him for long. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he thrust his hips upwards and filled her. She cried out from the sensation. Then he was moving underneath her, and she was moving on top of him in a way that was so in sync they could have been doing it for years. His thumb was rubbing circles over her clit, and she came so hard she thought she would shoot off him, but he grabbed her hips and brought her back down on him hard, making her feel every inch of him inside of her as her inner muscles contracted around him. Then he rolled her underneath him, and pumped into her several more times before he reached his own release.

* * *

By the time they made it out of bed the next morning, it was late. Elena was too tired and too satisfied to care. She wanted to see more of Italy, but they would come back. Right now she felt as if she were almost floating. She'd never felt that way after sex before, but then she'd never had that many orgasms in a row before either. Her husband didn't run out of batteries in the bedroom. Once they were both showered – that itself took time as they made use of the extra large walk in shower, they headed out to explore the town.

As they wandered around, hand in hand, Elena thought she and Damon probably looked like one of those in-love couples she had spotted on her first days here. Only she knew better. They spent the day eating. When she made a comment about putting on the pounds, he just looked at her and told her that one day of eating would not undo the fact that she'd refused so much food in Tahiti. He also told her that eating was a big part of coming to Italy, and to enjoy it. So she did.

* * *

She felt slightly nervous flying back into the country. _Now_ the honeymoon was over, and she had to adjust to her new life as Damon's wife. Ric was waiting for them at the airport. Her stomach fluttered as they drove along the long, winding driveway to the Salvatore mansion.

"Welcome home, Mrs Salvatore," Damon said to her as he carried her across the threshold.

She'd been to the mansion several times before the wedding. During one of those visits, she had been introduced to the various staff and Damon had explained how the household ran. All of the staff seemed pleasant enough. Elena told him she wasn't used to having people around to clean and cook for her, but Damon assured her she would get used to it.

All of her belongings from home had already been moved across, and when she entered their bedroom she found all of her clothes in the large walk in robe. It was…strange.

Their first real argument at home occurred two hours after they walked through the door.

"You did what?" Elena asked, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

"You were extremely tired, Elena. Need I remind you of when we were in Tahiti, and you weren't eating. I thought you might faint at any time."

"Oh, Damon, don't be so dramatic. I was fine, and if I wasn't eating it was because I was too angry to," she huffed.

"You were too angry to eat? Right, so making you angry means potential starvation on your part. Remind me not to piss you off then." He growled at her.

They stood there, glaring at each other. Damon had called her parents when they arrived in Italy, to tell them she needed more time off work. She knew exactly why she was so upset. He would be back at work, and she would be stuck here, alone. She didn't want to be sitting around waiting for him to come home. After doing that in Italy, for two nights, she did not want to do it again. Besides this was all so new, she longed for the normalcy of her family and work.

He stalked towards her now, and put his hands around her waist.

"You are so stubborn, Elena. I was worried about you."

His voice was soft and soothing, and it made Elena realize she really didn't want to fight with him.

"I'm sorry," she said to him. "I'm tired, and to be honest, this is all a bit overwhelming. I was hoping to go back to work because that's what I know."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her hair.

"I should have spoken to you first. I'm sorry too."

"Just promise me you won't make my decisions for me, or do things for me that you think are in my best interest. It's a pet hate of mine."

"Okay," he said, "but I want you to promise me that if I do upset you, accidentally, that you're not going refuse to eat."

"Okay," she said.

"We all good?" he asked her.

"All good."

His arms went right around her now, and he kissed her softly. Within minutes she found herself wrapped in his arms, testing out her new bed.

* * *

When Damon walked through the door a little after seven the following evening, Elena tried to play it cool. She wanted to see him straight away, but she stayed put in the library and pretended to be interested in the book she was reading. Would he come and find her? She ran her hand through her hair several times and hoped she looked okay. She had freshened up a little over an hour ago in anticipation of his arrival.

As Elena waited for him, she was aware her heart was racing. There was no point in telling herself she was silly or ridiculous for feeling this way; it was what it was. Her husband had come home and as much as she didn't want to be jumping for joy, she was, or her body was. It was the longest time they had gone without sex, since they'd started having it, and she already felt ready for him.

About ten minutes later she heard him come through the door. She looked up from her book to see him standing there, hip pressed against the desk.

"Hi," he said softly.

"How was your day?" she asked him, closing her book and laying it next to her, all the while trying to concentrate on not thinking about ripping her clothes off and demanding he take her on the desk right now.

"Tedious," he told her, "I couldn't help wishing we were back in Italy, enjoying the sun…and each other."

Elena smirked. He'd missed her too then.

He walked over to where she was sitting and leaned over to kiss her. Warmth spread through her as his lips moved against hers. It wasn't enough. With Damon it never seemed to be enough. She let out a small sound that could only be described as needy and before she knew it, he'd slid his arms around her and picked her up off the couch.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to take you to bed right now, Mrs Salvatore?" he asked her as he cradled her in his arms.

"It would be," she replied, "but I think I can forgive you for it. Just this once, though."

She was vaguely aware of him closing the bedroom door with his foot, effectively blocking out the rest of the world. Then they made love like they'd been apart for years rather than hours.

* * *

They carried on that way for weeks. Every day, Elena felt more consumed by him. Instead of sex easing her frustration and desire, it only fueled it. Every night when he came home, she would desperately make love with him, enjoying every bit of attention he gave her. As time went on their lovemaking became more intense, and her need escalated into something that was completely beyond her control. Damon Salvatore had turned her into some kind of sex monster. Being with him was all she seemed to think about, and that was really starting to scare her.

Just yesterday, her mother had sat with her in the office to show Elena that she had made a mistake with the book keeping. She'd been horrified. She never made mistakes, never. Elena knew exactly why it had happened. She'd been daydreaming about several nights ago when Damon had brought home a sexy outfit for her to model. It had been so revealing that she had blushed when her eyes came to rest upon the garment, if it could even be called that. It was more like a piece of string that barely covered her nether regions. Yet, as usual, she had been unable to say no to his request. She was completely under his spell.

Fortunately her mother didn't seem too upset by her mistake. Her mother patted her hand.

"In the months after I married your father I could barely focus on anything but him. Ah, those honeymoon months were just so dreamy."

Elena wanted to make a gagging noise but her mother looked so happy that she couldn't bring herself to.

As Elena drove home that night she made a deal with herself; she would get through one night without being with him. She had to prove to herself that she could do it. Even now, her body was protesting the thought, but that only made her more determined to get through the night without succumbing to her need to have him. She was in control here. She laughed humorlessly. She was so not in control here. She didn't know how she would do it. Maybe she could feign a headache. Maybe she would ask him if they could just cuddle tonight. She smiled as she imagined his face. No, the headache would be a better idea.

When she entered the house, she noticed it was quieter than normal. She walked to their bedroom to change out of her work clothes, and found their bed and bedroom floor scattered with rose petals. What was going on here? Normally she was home a good hour or so before Damon. There was a note on the bed. She walked over and picked it up.

"_It's been three months since we said, I do. I think this occasion requires a celebration, don't you? Your outfit is in the robe; join me downstairs in fifteen minutes_."

She folded the note and put it on her bedside table.

"Really, Damon? Three month anniversary?" she said aloud.

No-one celebrated their three month anniversary, did they? She wondered how her plan to not sleep with him tonight would hold up against the full force of a Damon Salvatore seduction.

She never would have guessed that her husband was such a romantic, but the past three months he had shown her just how romantic he could be. She received flowers from him every other day. He took her to fancy restaurants, the theater, and concerts. He even watched romantic movies with her.

She walked into the enormous walk in robe, hoping to find something other than an invisible piece of lingerie. Hanging just inside the door she found a backless cream colored gown. It was stunning. She sighed. She may as well go along with this for now. She slipped into the gown and freshened up, lightly going over her make-up and spraying on perfume. She twisted her hair into an elegant knot at the back of her neck, then deciding she'd gone to enough trouble, she found suitable pumps and exited the room.

She eventually found him in the dining room. The chandeliers were all on, but turned down so that their light was soft, and hundreds of candles were lit up all over the long length of the table. Damon was standing there in a tux looking impossibly handsome and wicked all at the same time. There was no mistaking the way his eyes lit up when he saw her. A warm glow spread through her.

"Happy anniversary," he said to her, before taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless. Her head reeled as he handed her a glass of champagne. Damon and champagne on an empty stomach were probably not a good idea. Both of them were capable of making her head spin.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, when he noticed she didn't touch her champagne.

"I haven't eaten since lunchtime; it'll go straight to my head."

He pretended to frown "I'm not seeing a problem."

Of course he didn't see a problem. He'd never been on the receiving end of one of his own seductions. She couldn't stop the small smile that curved her lips at the thought.

He smiled back at her. "You're hungry, so let's eat." He plucked the champagne glass out of her hand and sat it down in front of her. Then he pulled out her chair for her so she could sit down. Once she was seated, he disappeared for a moment before reappearing with two large bowls of pasta. He sat down across from her.

The pasta was divine. He'd made it. He'd come home early just to make it for her. But then she knew by now, after three months of marriage, what it was like to experience his full seduction. Every thing about the man was so seductive to start with; the way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he talked, the way he made love. But that was only the beginning. When he set out to seduce her, he launched an all out attack on every one of her senses. The dress that he'd picked out for her, for example, was so soft against her skin that every time the dress shifted it felt like a caress. His aftershave, combined with the sexy smell of just him, was so alluring, so delicious, that if she bottled it, _she_ would be the billionaire. Soft music played in the background. She thought it sounded liked something from the 1920s; something jazzy and romantic. And to top it off, to go with their pasta, he had a bottle of the wine she'd liked most from the winery in Tuscany. He always put so much thought into everything.

After dinner, Damon put a CD on the stereo. She didn't think anything of it until she heard the familiar voice of Sade filter softly through the speakers.

"Damon, is this my CD?"

He nodded. "I've heard you listening to this song a bit. You seem to like it." He offered her his hand. "Dance with me," he told her.

She put her hand in his and let him sweep her up in his embrace. He held her close and she rested her head against his shoulder, letting herself be completely swept away by the song and his arms.

After a time he slipped his finger under her chin and tilted her head so she was looking at him. It was as she stared into his eyes that the truth finally dawned on her. How had she not seen it before? She had an all consuming need to have him; she was unable to think about anything else but him. She'd obviously fallen in love with him. She'd fallen in love with her husband. She couldn't even be sure when it had happened.

He brushed his lips against hers; that small display of affection sending heat straight through her. She'd never stood a chance. Not really. And she didn't stand a chance of not going to bed with him tonight. When it came to this man, she felt powerless; powerless against her own urges, her own desires, and powerless against the man himself. He had charmed her, bewitched her and she didn't think she would ever be able to resist giving him anything he wanted.

So when he picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, she didn't resist. When he laid her on the bed and removed all of her clothing, she didn't protest. When he kissed every inch of her body, paying special attention to every one of her erogenous zones, she did nothing but murmur her appreciation that he didn't miss any of them. When he finally gave in to her heated requests, and plunged into her, filling her to the hilt, she screamed her approval. And when it was all over, she wiped the tear away that had fallen sometime during it all, and marveled at how much it could hurt to sleep with someone she loved, when they didn't love her back.

Damon lay in bed beside Elena and wondered what the hell had just happened. He was lying on his back, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. She was on the very edge of the king sized bed. She wasn't even within arm's reach. He'd thought they were having an enjoyable evening. He thought that she had enjoyed sex as much as he had, but in the dim light of the lamp, he thought he'd seen her crying. He didn't know why or understand it. He'd been doing everything he knew how to make her happy. He was trying, damn it, and he had no idea why she was unhappy. What more did she need from him? All she had to do was tell him and god knows he'd find a way to give it to her.

These last three months had been the best of his life, and he'd wanted to celebrate tonight because he just felt happy, and he felt happy doing things with her. He liked to surprise her with things, and take her places, and he really just liked to spend time with her. At the end of each day, instead of lingering on last minute details at work, he found himself pushing it aside for the following morning. All he could think about was getting home to Elena as soon as he could. She lit him up, she made him feel alive. And for the first time in his life he admitted that before she came along, he'd been living life as if nothing mattered. Now he felt something mattered to him; mattered very much to him. Things had changed since he'd married her. She'd given him perspective on things. Everything in his life just felt a little easier because she was in it, she was by his side.

She obviously wasn't as happy as he was though, and the thought upset him enough to make him feel restless and dissatisfied. There was a whole bed between them, but it felt more like an ocean that he needed to swim across to get to her. He sighed before he got up. He needed a drink. A drink always helped him think.

Elena felt the mattress move as Damon got up. She wanted to ask him where he was going but instead she shut her eyes as she heard him move around to her side of the bed. She literally held her breath as she felt him stroke the side of her face with his finger. Typical, she thought, he always made her feel everything that she wanted to avoid. Right now she didn't want to feel how tender he was with her. Her heart ached. She knew it was pointless to want more than he could give her. He'd warned her upfront that love wasn't on the agenda. To be fair he gave her a lot, and many women would probably be more than satisfied by this arrangement; money, a gorgeous man who looked after her, looked out for her, made her body sing in bed. Some would definitely tell her to suck it up and be grateful for what she had; but she couldn't change the fact that she was one of those people who wanted to be loved back. Was that really so wrong?

She sighed before sitting up and taking out a pen and a spare notebook out of the draw next to her. She hadn't kept a diary since she was a teenager, but her head needed sorting out and she thought journaling just might help. Here she could work her emotions and thoughts out onto paper and say what she needed to. Once she started writing, it was hard to stop, the words came pouring out, and as they did, a plan was formulated. 1) Find out what she was up against – e.g. find out more about Katherine. She was after all the reason why Damon said he would never love again. 2) Make Damon fall in love with her, Elena.

So her number two was kind of vague, but she couldn't count herself out, not yet. Maybe, just maybe, if she loved him enough, if she gave of herself enough, if she accepted enough, maybe he would open his heart to her and he would find a way to love her back. She had to have hope. What would life be without hope? Besides, it was too late to go back, and it was useless pretending she didn't love him. She put her pen and notebook back in the top drawer before climbing out of bed. She felt much better. She'd always found writing extremely cathartic. Now she wanted her husband back in bed, back in her arms, so that she could show him just how incredible it was to be loved by somebody; again and again and again. Operation make Damon fall in love with her, started right now.

* * *

A/N: Once again, I'm absolutely overwhelmed and honored that so many people who've read this have taken the time to leave me a comment. This story doesn't have too long to go now. Eleven chapters should be enough to cover everything. I sincerely hope this chapter kept your interest, and that the following chapters keep you entertained. Some drama coming up. More of Damon's POV in upcoming chapters.

I've been on line looking at fanfic expressions and meanings, but if someone could tell me if there is a difference between a 'lemon' and 'smut', I would be really grateful. Thanks for reading and please review.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter picks up where the last chapter left off.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Damon sat on the sofa with a glass of whiskey in one hand, and watched the fire he'd just made in the fireplace. It was relaxing to sit and listen to the crackle of the logs burning; to watch the different colored flames dancing along the firewood. Before Elena had become his wife he had spent many evenings like this. Since he'd married her, however, he'd been more than content to spend every night in bed with her.

Whatever else he said about his marriage, he couldn't complain about his sex life. She was always more than willing; even desperate for him at times. She responded with passion and fervor to his every advance. When they'd agreed to this arrangement, he had told her he would take a mistress if he wanted one, but there would be no mistress for him. Elena did more than hold his attention; he simply didn't have any desire for another woman. His thoughts were for his wife and his wife only. No-one else would ever do, and no-one made him feel what she did in bed.

It was more than satisfaction and sexual fulfillment, he felt connected to her. She'd come into his life and set his world alight. The feelings she brought out in him were so strong that he'd felt scared by them more than once. If possible, his feelings for his wife were even stronger than the feelings he'd had for Katherine. While he had loved Katherine, he'd never longed for her happiness above his own, but with Elena he found himself constantly wanting to please her, to make her happy.

Her tears tonight had been like a stake through his heart. He'd let down his walls, and let her in, and she was still holding back. Would his wife ever be truly happy with him? The thought that she may not be happy with him was not only unacceptable to his male ego, but unacceptable because he didn't give up, not on the things that mattered. She mattered.

He ignored his father's voice in his head telling him he was a weak son of a bitch for caring about his wife. Damon knew his feelings made him vulnerable, but he didn't want to fight his feelings for her. She just made him feel so much, and after walking around like the living dead on the inside, it was almost a relief to experience such intense feelings, even if they did frighten the hell out of him at times.

He heard a small noise, and looked over to see his wife standing across the room, watching him. She was wearing the camisole and panties set he'd bought her a little while ago. Standing there, in the firelight, he thought she may just be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. The realization came out of nowhere; anything - he would do anything for this woman. Did she know? Did she know that she made his heart beat a little bit faster every time he saw her? Did she know that he needed her so much that the thought of being without her actually caused him physical pain?

Her eyes were full of warmth as they lingered on his face, and Damon couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve the intimate little smile she was giving him right now.

She walked across the carpet to him. When she reached him she didn't sit down, she just stood next to him and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the top of his head and then ran her hands through his hair softly. The gesture surprised him. While she usually participated wholeheartedly in their bedroom activities, she didn't often initiate displays of affection outside of the bedroom.

He looked up at her, to see her smiling gently at him. It was a smile he hadn't seen before. She removed the almost empty glass from his hand before sitting it on the coffee table in front of him, and then she stroked the side of his face with her hand before leaning in to kiss him. He didn't understand what was happening right now. She had been upset, he was sure of it, but as her lips moved softy against his he found he didn't care why she was suddenly being affectionate with him, just that she was here and he needed her again. He would always need her.

He wasn't sure whether she fell into his lap, or if he pulled her into it. She snuggled into him, pressing her face to his chest and breathing him in, before trailing soft kisses over his chest.

"I thought you were asleep," he murmured. She kissed a spot on his neck, then gave him a gentle nip.

"I missed you," she told him huskily.

Within seconds he had her pinned underneath him on the couch, but she giggled softly and squirmed underneath him.

"Damon," she sighed, pushing at his chest. He moved off her a bit, so he could look at her face. Had he done something wrong? Did she not want him? She was still smiling at him. "Damon, I want to…will you let me…can I make love to you?"

She wanted to make love to him? She reached out and cupped his face with her hand, running her fingertips over his jaw. The look in her eyes almost made him feel uncomfortable. It was so warm, so accepting, so appreciative. No-one had ever looked at him like that, and it made him feel strange: warm and accepted and…and loved. It couldn't be love though, he'd warned her not to love him. He lowered himself and kissed her beautiful lips, but she pushed at his chest again.

"Please Damon, let me love you tonight."

The words set alarm bells ringing inside his head. She couldn't fall in love with him. That would only hurt both of them.

"You mean, you want to make love to me?" he asked to clarify.

Her smile slipped for less than a second.

"Yes. Please. I want to make love to you."

Who was he to deny her something she wanted?

"Then take me," he told her with a smile, "I'm all yours."

She grinned back at him, and then pushed him up so she could get off the couch. He was going to follow her, but she put her hand against his chest, indicating she wanted him to lie down. He lay down on his back and she straddled him. He decided right then that his wife was extraordinarily hot when she took control. She kissed him on the mouth again, before pressing soft kisses along his jaw line.

She hadn't said anything about him not touching her, so he cupped her breasts through the camisole, loving the way her nipples hardened straight away. He wanted to take them in his mouth; she liked it when he used his tongue on her there, but he would have to wait. She was setting the pace tonight. She found the sensitive spot behind his ear that she knew made him crazy and grazed her teeth over it. It was excruciating pleasure in bite sized pieces with her in control. Everything she was doing was turning his lust for her into a need so strong he had to fight every instinct to roll her under him and take her now. She was unbearably slow as she kissed her way down his neck, stopping to suck on one spot. Was she giving him a hickey? He was so hard for her now that when she shifted her hips and her bottom brushed against him, he thought he might explode in his boxers.

"Elena," he growled, "you're killing me here."

He actually felt her smile against his neck.

She sat up now, again brushing against his manhood, and took off her camisole, showing him her bare breasts. She knew she was torturing him, right? Then she set off down his body, kissing and licking every inch of him. He could feel her naked breasts sliding against his skin. When she reached his boxers, she lifted the waistband and dipped her tongue inside the fabric to lick his skin near his hip. He groaned. If she went any further he didn't know how much longer he'd last. She pulled his boxers down, freeing him from the restraining material. She shifted to the side so she could move his boxers down his legs, and he was grateful that his couch was both long enough and wide enough for this activity.

When she had his boxers off, she kissed his hips and licked and nipped at the inside of his thighs, but ignored his jutting manhood, except to brush her breasts against him there. Now he knew she was trying to drive him out of his mind. When he thought he could take no more of her teasing, she kissed his length, starting at the base and working her way to the top. Then she grabbed him firmly with one hand and put him in her mouth. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Her mouth felt too good to be true, but he didn't want to have sex with her mouth and after only a short time, he could feel how close he was to release. He blamed it on the prolonged teasing but the truth was that sex between them felt so good that it tested his control every time they were together.

"Elena," he forced the word out, "you have to stop, I'm going to…"

She paused to look at him, her cheeks were flushed; her eyes dark and heavy lidded, and he realized she was as affected by what she was doing as he was.

"Come Damon. You taste so good," she said huskily.

Her words pushed him that much closer to the edge and as she slid her mouth onto his length again, he felt the inevitable tightness that signaled he was past the point of no return. She reached between his legs to caress his tightened sack, and as the tip of him touched the back of her throat, he couldn't hold back any longer. "Elena," he called, as his seed coated her throat.

She looked up at him, and smiled as she wiped her mouth. "I can't believe how horny that made me," she said softly.

He couldn't stop from grinning. "Give me a minute, and I'll return the favor," he told her. He would move just as soon as he could feel his legs again.

She didn't say anything; she just stood up, hooked her thumbs inside her lace panties and slowly worked them down her legs. Then she sat back down on the sofa, leaning against the arm rest. He watched with awe as she spread her legs in front of him, opening herself up to him. His mouth went dry as she began to touch herself. She let out a little moan that had the blood in his body working its way south again, and his heart starting to beat a little bit faster. Her eyes were shining brightly, as they locked onto his.

"Damon," she cried. Her other hand had come up to cup her breast now. "God, Damon. Oh, God." At some point he'd started stroking himself to the picture of his wife. He wanted to join her so badly, but didn't want to interrupt her fun. Then all of a sudden, she stopped. "It feels so good," she told him, "but it's not you." He knew she could have easily finished the job, but it was all the invitation he needed to move across the couch and pull her underneath him. He grabbed her hips and entered her with one hard, quick thrust. She gasped as he filled her. As she wrapped her legs around him pulling him in closer, the pleasure was almost too intense. His body felt like pins and needles all over, like a fire that was burning him up as he moved inside of her. He'd never experienced anything like it before. He kissed her face, her neck, while she chanted his name, unable to get enough of her. He was hurtling towards climax so fast, but he didn't want to stop. He never wanted it to end. They were both panting hard, and he could feel himself about to slip over the edge at any moment. Then he locked eyes with her; "I love being with you," she whispered to him. The emotion he felt at those words combined with the physical sensation of being so deep inside her, pushed him over. The orgasm seemed to last for minutes.

Afterward, she fell asleep in his arms while they were still on the couch, and he wondered how something so wonderful and precious had come to be his.

* * *

"Damon, you're not listening to a word I'm saying are you?"

He looked at Rose. She was frowning at him. It wasn't like him to be so absent, but he was having trouble focusing today. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. He shouldn't be in the office; he should be with his beautiful wife. He'd come in today because he had extra work today that really needed to be done, but he wanted to get it over with so he could go home as quickly as possible. Elena had told him she'd be fine without him, but he couldn't help but be a little worried; she'd not been feeling that well the past two days. He wanted her to go the doctor but she insisted it was nothing to worry over. He didn't want to press the issue, not when things were going so well.

The last two weeks had been incredible. Since their three month anniversary, when he'd been sure he'd seen her cry, something had changed. She was different with him. She wasn't holding anything back anymore. The fortnight had been filled with little surprises for him. Last week she'd sent him a single rose with a card detailing exactly what she intended to do to him that night. He'd had to postpone a meeting for five minutes while he got himself under control. Then there was the time when she'd sent the staff home early and cooked him a roast. The roast tasted great, but when she'd greeted him with an apron on and nothing else, all he could think about was how much he wanted to taste her. Last weekend they'd spent an evening with her family, playing games. He and Elena had teamed up as partners for several of them. It surprised him how well they worked together; but it surprised him even more how much fun he'd had with her and her family.

More than anything, he was pleased to see that she seemed happy. When they were together, she smiled and laughed. There were still moments occasionally when she looked sad for a second but they passed quickly, and for the most part, being with her was like walking on sunshine. She made his days brighter. He was becoming sappy. He hated sappy, but she brought it out in him. Yesterday he'd even been singing in the shower; some stupid love song. Elena had poked her head in to make a rude comment about his singing. He got his own back by pulling her in. She'd squealed at first, but then he'd kissed her, and well, he'd been far too late for work.

"Damon, is everything alright? You're never this unfocused."

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm just finding it hard to keep my head on work today."

He hadn't worked a Saturday since before their wedding. Rose put her hand on his and smiled warmly at him. "We both want to get out of here, so let's get through these last three files and call it a day. I'm sure Elena will be happy to see you get home from work early."

He smiled at the thought of surprising his wife. Maybe they could go out for dinner tonight, but only if she was feeling better.

He tried his best to concentrate on work and they got through what they needed to fairly quickly. Within forty minutes he was able to leave the office. He couldn't keep from whistling as he stepped into the elevator.

"Damon, wait!"

He held the elevator doors open after hearing Rose's yell. He was tempted to pretend he didn't hear her and let the doors close, but knowing Rose she'd keep calling his mobile until he came back anyway. He stepped out of the lift.

"What is it?" he asked her, trying not to sound as cranky as he felt.

"I'm still waiting for your RSVP to the charity ball next month."

Damon frowned, but then remembered what she was talking about. His stomach sunk. How had he forgotten about that?

"You know I have to go to that," he told her.

"Yes, but is Elena going with you?"

He hadn't asked her to go with him. He'd meant to talk to her about it, but something always came up, or he was distracted. He sighed. He knew the exact reason he'd put off talking to her about it.

"Damon, it's the biggest social event in your calendar. Please tell me she knows about it."

Damon didn't have to shake his head or say anything; he could see she already knew the answer.

"It's because _she's_ going to be there isn't it?"

Katherine. Unfortunately they still ran in some of the same circles. He avoided her where he could, but he knew she would be at the ball. He did not want Elena and Katherine in the same room together. Katherine had a vicious streak and a mouth on her that caused no end of trouble; however, if he didn't ask Elena to go with him, his wife would be hurt.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight." he told his P.A.

"Make sure you do that," Rose told him.

If anyone else had spoken to him like that, he would have fired them immediately, but Rose was also his friend and he knew she was happy he'd married Elena. Katherine on the other hand, she'd barely tolerated. Rose walked away from him, and he stepped back into the elevator. This time he wasn't whistling. He didn't want to think about Katherine. Thinking about his ex only put him in a bad mood. As he made his way to the car he contemplated exactly what he should tell his wife about the woman who had hurt him so badly that he'd told himself he'd never love again.

* * *

Elena sat in front of the mirror, pulling a hairbrush through her hair. She thought 100 strokes were overkill, but she had some time to kill. It was the first Saturday that she'd had to entertain herself. When Damon told her he was going into work today, she'd been disappointed they wouldn't be spending the day together, but she could deal with it. He'd been a bit reluctant to leave her since he knew she'd been feeling a bit off the past couple of days, but she assured him she was fine.

Despite her best efforts to keep busy, the day had not gone fast enough. In the morning she'd visited her brother and his girlfriend Anna. In need of some retail therapy, Anna had dragged her down the shops and Elena had spent an incessant amount of time combing through lingerie shops for new underwear. Afterward they took in a movie; and then finally Elena headed home. She walked in the door at four, a full two hours before she expected her husband home. It gave her time to primp and try on some of the new underwear she'd bought.

Her mission to make Damon fall in love with her was in full swing now. Her main plan of attack was to show him how much she cared about him; to show him through her actions that she loved him. Once or twice she'd thought about telling him how she felt, but she was worried he wasn't quite ready to hear it yet.

Some time over the past sixteen days she'd come to the realization that she was happy with Damon. They actually shared a far deeper compatibility and bond than she'd ever guessed at in the beginning. As a husband and as a man he had plenty of admirable qualities, and every day she felt her love for him deepening. Damon hadn't told her he loved her, but she could tell that he cared for her, and he was affectionate with her. Somehow she'd managed to convince herself, that if he never loved her, that affection and feeling could be enough to sustain her. She didn't know if it was the truth, but it stopped her from falling into a pit of despair in moments which felt darker than others.

The other part of her plan had not gone so well. Every day she wanted to ask him about Katherine. She would start a conversation with the intention of talking about her, but then stop at the last minute. The trouble was this; she was simply afraid of him putting a distance between them. She was afraid he would turn his back on her and freeze her out. Damon Salvatore was an extremely private man, and even though she was his wife, she would have much preferred that he chose to share the information rather than having to pry for it. That said, she had to know; it was just a matter of picking the right time. She hadn't found one yet.

At four forty-five, she heard a car in the driveway. Perhaps Damon had finished work early. She smiled as she thought that he'd rushed home to see her. She was sitting in front of the mirror in her new underwear. She would love to greet him at the door like this, but she didn't think the staff would appreciate it, especially since lately Damon had been having a very difficult time keeping his hands of her. It appeared one thing had changed, where before she had been greedy for him, now he seemed to need her constantly, with a greater intensity than before. She told herself that was her plan working, but she had no idea if it was the truth. She picked out a green and white sundress to wear, thinking that dresses were at least handy for easy access. Then she walked swiftly down the stairs, not caring how eager she seemed to see him, just wanting to welcome him home.

Half way down the stairs she stopped smiling. It wasn't Damon she'd heard arrive, it was Stefan. She paused only for a second when she saw him. By the time she'd reached the bottom of the stairs, she'd schooled her face into a polite smile. She didn't know why he was here, but she suddenly felt anxious. The last time she'd seen him was at the rehearsal dinner and she couldn't shake the feeling that Stefan being here was bad news; that nothing good would come of his visit. She wished Damon were here to deal with him. She had no desire to speak with Stefan. Things had ended badly between them, and she didn't know what more could be said about the matter by either party.

"Stefan, how are you?" she asked as casually as possible. Rather awkwardly she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was after all her brother-in-law. His hand rested just a moment too long on the small of her back.

"You look good, Elena."

His comment and the way he was looking at her was enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Would you like to come and have a seat in the sitting room?"

She knew how formal she sounded but she wasn't sure how to deal with this situation.

He smiled and nodded. Once they were sitting, she arranged for refreshments to be brought in. "I'm not sure when Damon will arrive home; it could be any time." She hoped that the information would be enough to deter him from doing or saying anything foolish.

"I didn't come to see Damon. I'm here to see you."

"Why did you want to see me?" she asked.

"I bumped into your father yesterday at the golfing range."

The little ball of dread in her stomach grew larger.

"He mentioned that your family's financial problems are a thing of the past."

She squirmed in her seat, hoping above hope that her father had mentioned little else.

"Funny thing, Elena, he said that they received financial assistance from a private backer right around the time that you left me for Damon."

Elena felt herself start to perspire.

"You left me for Damon so he would bail out your family. I know how much you care about your family, Elena. You would have done anything for them." Stefan was gaining momentum. He stood up and started pacing, almost excited by his own deduction skills. "Damon told you he would only help you if you left me and married him. He forced you to marry him."

She didn't know what to say. She loved her husband, and admitting the truth felt ridiculously close to betraying him and breaking their confidence.

"I'm right, aren't I? He threatened you. Or no, maybe he threatened your family. That's why you're here. I should have known you would never have left me of your own accord."

She didn't know what to do. She had a feeling that if she denied it, he wouldn't drop the issue; in fact he may even dig deeper. What if he started asking her family more questions? She didn't need that, but she didn't want him to know the truth either. He could be just as dangerous with the facts as he could be if she lied to him.

* * *

By the time Damon arrived home, he was craving a drink and a moment of solitude. The sight of his brother's car in the driveway, however, told him he would have neither. He didn't know why Stefan was here; they didn't speak outside of work. Then again, maybe he hadn't come to visit Damon. Perhaps Stefan had come to visit Elena. He hoped for Stefan's sake that that was not the case. If Stefan even tried with Elena what he did with Katherine, he'd neuter him in a horrifyingly painful way.

Damon didn't enter via the front door, instead he chose one of the side entrances. He told himself that he wasn't suspicious, that he wasn't worried about Elena and Stefan being alone together. He didn't believe that he'd find Elena in bed with Stefan. Damon trusted her. Of course he'd trusted Katherine too; but Elena wasn't Katherine. He didn't, however, trust his brother not to try something stupid.

He heard voices coming from the parlor. He moved quickly to the room but stopped just outside when he heard Elena talking.

"It's not what you think, Stefan,"

"Isn't it? You're really going to sit there and deny it? You know I can get more information if I need to."

"It's true your brother and I have an arrangement, but we were both satisfied with it. He didn't force me to marry him."

While confidentiality had been part of their agreement, he was still surprised to hear Elena lie to his brother.

"Elena if he forced you into it, you wouldn't tell me. If he has something he's threatening you with I can understand you need to keep quiet, but I can find out the truth easily enough. And if he did force you to marry him; if he is holding something over your head to keep you here, I can get you out of this marriage."

"What do you mean you can get me out of this marriage?"

"My brother is a proud man, Elena. Do you think he's going to want the world to know that he blackmailed a woman to marry him? It would destroy him. It would do bad things to the business. God, I can go to the board with this. They'll have a field day. They might even demand that he step down."

Damon wasn't worried about Stefan's threats. He had more than enough ways to deal with his brother, though at this moment he was wishing they had an office in the South Pole he could send Stefan to. But he was worried about Elena's answer. She had no idea that Stefan couldn't follow through with his plans and he was offering her an out. These last months; these last weeks had been the best of his life, but did she feel the same, or would she never lose sight of the fact that he had blackmailed her into this position? Did she wish to be free from him; free from their marriage? The thought that she might not want to be married to him made his chest constrict painfully.

"Stefan, how can you even think about doing that to your own brother?"

"How could he force the woman I love to marry him? Don't talk to me about brothers and loyalty Elena. Damon has no care for anyone. Besides, you don't have to defend him to me, we can talk honestly. Just say the word, and I'll make sure you get out of this."

"Stefan, you need to listen to me. I do not want out of my marriage."

"It's okay, Elena, I know you're scared, but I can help."

"No, Stefan, you're not listening to me. I don't want out. I love Damon. I'm in love with him, and I _want_ my marriage."

The silence he heard was enough to make Damon want to do a victory dance. His brother had been put in his place. He wanted to kiss his wife and tell her how happy she made him, when he realized something. Elena had said she loved him; that she was in love with him. It couldn't possibly be true though; it had to be a lie. She couldn't love him, not after everything that he'd put her through. He didn't deserve her love at all. But what if it wasn't a lie? He couldn't help but think back to two weeks ago when she'd asked him to let her love him. Had there been more to that than he'd realized? He waited for the idea to fill him with dread, but curiously it didn't. Instead he felt a little bit lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

He'd listened to enough of their conversation; it was time for him to join the party, send Stefan packing and then find out if his wife had done the impossible, and found a way to love him against all the odds. He didn't stop to think about why that idea filled him with hope and made his soul sing.

* * *

A/N: So most of this chapter was in Damon's POV for those who requested it. I've had a grumpy, moody week as I've battled morning sickness and pregnancy hormones, and felt more than just a little sentimental while writing this. I love these two so much. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading and please review.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Again, picking up where we left off last chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Damon fiddled with the combination of the safe in his study. He'd actually put his foot into the sitting room when he'd paused for a moment. Before he went barreling in there he needed something first; ammunition for the execution he was about to perform. In his agitated rush to get back to his wife, he made a mistake on the combination. He started over now, trying to remain patient as he put in the numbers of his wife's birthday and their wedding anniversary. Finally, the door swung open and he pulled out the manila envelope with Stefan's name on it. He closed the safe behind him and walked quickly back to the parlor.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was that his wife looked extremely pale and she was wringing her hands in her lap. As her eyes landed on him, he saw relief in them for one small moment, before it disappeared and he saw the fear in them. The fear was almost enough to distract him from all else, but then the reason for it turned around and glared at him.

"Damon," Stefan said with a slight sneer.

His first instinct was to go for the jugular and shred Stefan to pieces, but he was going to enjoy the kill, and that meant appreciating the hunt and the chase. If his brother had just come after him, he would have been…lenient; but going after Elena, bad move.

"Hello brother," Damon said with a smile so cold his brother stopped sneering and looked worried for a second. Good, his brother should be worried. Damon dropped the envelope on the nearest surface before walking across the room to kiss his wife.

"Damon," she whispered anxiously, "he's going to…"

"Shhh," he told her gently, giving her hands a quick squeeze.

Then he poured himself a drink, not bothering to offer Stefan one. After he'd taken one long sip, he sat next to his wife and put an arm around her.

"Stefan, take a seat." He motioned for Stefan to sit opposite them.

His brother looked like he was going to refuse as first, but then complied, sitting with a huff.

"Why are you here Stef?"

"Can't a man just decide to pay his brother a visit?" Stefan asked, sneer back in place.

"No, not in your case."

"I wanted to see how this little domestic union was fairing." His brother was wearing a look of arrogance now that suggested he thought he had the upper hand.

Damon turned to his wife. "I'd say this union is fairing quite well, wouldn't you?" he asked her softly, her face just inches from his.

Her eyes were wide with confusion. They searched his for a moment before she gave him a small smile. "Yes," told him quietly, "I think it's going well." Her words filled him with pleasure and confidence. They sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, until Stefan snorted.

"I know exactly what this is, Damon. You don't fool me. Forcing a woman to marry you is a new low, even for you."

"Elena and I have an arrangement; an agreement, one we are both happy with."

"I'll bet. It's the only way you'd find someone to marry you. Katherine was smart enough to run in the other direction."

He felt Elena flinch beside him. It was the type of comment Damon had expected his brother to make. Katherine had always been Stefan's trump card. With Elena curled into his side, however, her name didn't bring up the bitterness it usually did. Damon wondered if he was doing the right thing, drawing this out, perhaps it was time to go straight for the kill. It was unfair on Elena to be carrying on like this, and it could get worse.

"I'll bet he hasn't even told you about Katherine."

This time it was Damon who wanted to flinch. He should have told her about Katherine earlier.

"Damon will tell me when he's ready," Elena told Stefan coldly.

"So he hasn't told you? I shouldn't be surprised, not really. He never told Caroline or his other girlfriends about her. I shouldn't have assumed things would be different with you. See you may love him, Elena, but he'll never love again. So you can sit here and pretend to be happy, locked in your loveless marriage, but I know the truth. I know you. You can't be happy when you're with someone who will never love you back."

The comment stung as if she'd been slapped. To be compared to Damon's other girlfriends; to be told Damon would never love her and she was locked in some loveless marriage was just awful, but it didn't change the fact that she was happy in her marriage. She was aware of Damon sitting tensely beside her; had felt him tense up when Stefan had mentioned her love. She hadn't told Damon she loved him, hadn't thought the time right, but now he knew, and she was glad he did. She didn't want to hold it in or keep it a secret anymore. She did love him, and she would love him for the rest of her life, even if he couldn't love her back.

"See that's where _you're_ wrong, Stefan. You don't know me, because I am happy. I'm happier than I've ever been."

Stefan laughed angrily and stood up. "It doesn't matter what you say, this farce is ridiculous and I intend to tell everyone about it. You'll be the laughing stock of the city."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," her husband said beside her. His voice held so much confidence that Elena wondered if he realized exactly what Stefan was threatening to do – ruin their lives without any thought of the consequences.

"Why not?" Stefan asked belligerently.

"I thought you'd never ask," Damon said. He stood up and made his across the room, picking up an envelope.

"What's this?" Stefan asked as Damon handed it to him.

"Why don't you open it up and find out," Damon told him, walking back across the room to refill his now empty glass.

Elena had to admit her curiosity had been piqued and she wished she was standing next to Stefan so she could see what was in there. He pulled out a handful of photos. Stefan's face turned white as he looked at them, and for a moment she believed he might faint.

"Where did you get these?" he asked his brother in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

She turned her head so that she could see Damon, who was taking a leisurely sip from his glass.

"Where I got them from is irrelevant. The point is that I have them."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"I'm done keeping you out of trouble. I made a promise a while ago, but I can only stand for so much. Coming after my marriage and my wife were your biggest mistakes yet. You'll get nothing more from me. If you so much as breathe a word about our marriage to anybody, I will be sure to send those photos to everyone who would have an interest in the matter."

The smile on her husband's face now was so sinister right now that she actually felt afraid for Stefan.

"I wouldn't want to see you go to jail, Stef. You wouldn't last a day. Not to mention that with your face, you'd get a lot of…attention."

She watched Damon stalk across the room slowly. Stefan never took his eyes off his brother. Elena understood she was seeing a side to her husband that she knew was there, but had never seen before; the predator. This was the man who would dominate any boardroom, corporate takeover and conquer his business rivals with ease. Few would get the upper hand on her husband. She felt as if she were seeing his strength, his dominance, his virility and potency in high definition. He was the typical alpha male and absurdly she felt slightly aroused as he bested his opponent.

Damon was now standing in front of Stefan. Stefan swallowed hard. "Stay away from Elena's family," Damon told him. She watched Stefan step backwards. Damon followed. "Stay away from _my wife_." Stefan stepped back once more. Damon again followed. "And know this; if you threaten my marriage ever again, I'll make sure you wish you were dead." He said it so softly, yet the impact was lethal.

Elena believed he meant every word. So did Stefan, judging by the look on his face.

"You have my word, Damon. I won't tell anybody about this." Stefan's voice was almost pleading now.

If it had been anybody else, Elena would have felt sorry for them, but Stefan had no obvious concern for ruining her life. She wondered again what was in that envelope. Obviously her ex-boyfriend had done something that would be cause for jail time. Had she known Stefan at all?

"I'm glad we understand each other," Damon told him. "You can go now."

The dismissal was a blatant insult, but Stefan just nodded.

"Goodbye, Elena," Stefan said to her. Elena felt the finality behind the words.

"Goodbye," she said stiffly.

"I'll see you out," Damon said.

"No need," Stefan told him quickly.

"Oh, I insist," Damon replied.

Once she could no longer hear either voices or footsteps, Elena took a deep breath. She knew Damon had something left to say to Stefan that he didn't want to say in front of her, and while she wouldn't mind knowing what was being said, she felt relieved that the confrontation was over. She would be okay, Damon would be okay, and their marriage would be okay. She hoped. She had yet to talk to him about what Stefan had said, and a conversation about Katherine was long overdue.

She took a deep breath and moved her head from one side to the other, stretching her neck. It was when she stood up that her gaze fell upon the now discarded envelope. She looked for Damon but when she couldn't see him coming she moved quickly towards it. It felt wrong to look, but her curiosity was too strong to ignore. The photo she pulled out was of Stefan in a compromising position with someone. At first she couldn't pick who the girl was but then she recognized her as the Mayor's underage daughter. The photo had the time and date marked on it. According to the date, this photo had been taken during the time she'd been involved with Stefan. So Stefan had been cheating on her. Why had Damon never told her?

Hearing her husband's footsteps, she tried to shove the photo back into the envelope but failed in her rush.

"Couldn't resist?" Damon asked her, raising one eyebrow when he saw her.

She flushed guiltily

"I…I tried."

He smirked.

"He was cheating on me," she told him. "You knew?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't see the point in hurting you when you were no longer with him."

"Why didn't you tell me when I was still with him?"

"Would you have believed me?" he asked her. "I thought the best course of action was simply to make you marry me instead." He gave her such a charming smile that she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I'm glad you did," she told him softly.

"Are you now?" Damon asked her, coming towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She hadn't been aware until now just how much she needed this; needed his arms around her.

Stefan's threats had scared her. She'd been terrified that he would not only expose how she had come to marry her husband, but also delight in ruining Damon. The look of pleasure on Stefan's face when he'd spoken about going to the board had shocked and appalled her. She was glad it was over.

"You're not angry that I didn't tell you?" Damon asked.

She thought about it for a moment. Her husband had absolutely nothing to gain from not telling her that Stefan had been cheating on her, which could only mean that he thought he was doing the right thing by keeping it a secret.

"I believe your intentions were honorable," she said lightly, before standing on her toes to give him a kiss. The kiss started off sweet enough, but soon she was opening her mouth to him and he was kissing her hungrily; possessively. They were both breathless when they broke apart.

"Elena," Damon said, cupping her cheek with his hand.

She knew this was it; he was going to ask her about what Stefan had said. She was ready for it, but she still felt as if she were standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to dive off. Adrenaline kicked in accordingly. "Yes, Damon."

"I overheard some of the conversation before I walked in, and then Stefan said…"

"I love you Damon." The stunned look on his face made her smile. "I know you said that love was never part of the deal, but that doesn't matter to me. I love you."

Her words shook him to his very core. He'd never expected this. Even after hearing her say it earlier and hoping it was the truth. How was it even possible? He knew he wasn't lovable. He'd threatened her. He'd blackmailed her. He'd even told her not to fall in love with him. Yet here she was being completely open and honest with him. Her eyes, her smile, her expression, even her touch, all told him that those words were the absolute truth.

This was where he was meant to come back and tell her he loved her. He'd watched enough romantic movies with his wife now to know that his declaration of love should come next, but did he love her? It was more than probable; but after closing himself off to the idea of loving someone for so long, he found that he just couldn't be one hundred percent sure. His feelings for her were extraordinarily deep. He cared about her above everything and everyone else. She had become the centre of his world. He was tempted to say, 'I love you' just to hear the words out loud; to test them out and see if they fit, but this was important, and he didn't want to tell her he loved her when he didn't know for sure. She deserved better than that.

"Damon, say something," she whispered.

He didn't know what to say. He felt as if he'd just been given the most precious thing in the world and he had no idea what to do with it, no idea how to act with it.

"I care about you Elena. I care about you so much," he told her desperately.

He needed her to know that she meant something to him; that she was everything to him, but no other words were forthcoming. He felt tongue tied and ludicrously unprepared for this situation. He'd spent so long trying to keep all of his feelings turned off that he was struggling to define what he was feeling and articulate it.

"If you can't love me, I'll love enough for the both of us," she assured him.

He had no idea how she could be so forgiving; so accepting, so giving.

"I don't deserve you." Emotion clogged his throat as he spoke.

She put her hands on either side of his face. "Yes, you do." She kissed him and he could taste the love she was giving him; he could feel the love she was giving him, he could feel her giving all of herself to him. She was the most amazing, most incredible woman he'd ever known, and he found himself taking from her, drinking in her love like he was a man dying from thirst.

Inside he felt like a jumbled mess, but the emotion most apparent on the surface was need. He needed her; needed to be inside her, and the ache wasn't all physical. He wanted the closeness, the intimacy, the connection; he craved it, he craved her. He lifted her slightly and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She seemed to read him and understand him so well.

They never made it to the bedroom; instead he slipped them inside one of the guest rooms on the first story. Their union wasn't smooth like normal. He fumbled his way through undressing her, and he found himself apologizing for his lack of coordination more than once, but she just smiled and kissed him and told him how good she felt when he touched her. It was fast and heated and passionate and afterward she told him again that she loved him. He thought he'd never get used to hearing her say those words, or stop wanting to hear them.

Elena lay beside her husband and mentally slapped herself for winding up in bed with him before they'd talked about Katherine, but the truth was she'd needed it. He'd told her he cared about her. Even if he hadn't said he loved her, she hadn't given up hope that maybe one day soon he would. Things had gone well, she thought. He hadn't told her she was an idiot for falling in love with him, and he hadn't thrown her love back in her face and denied it. He'd accepted her love and almost taken it hungrily, and it had given her great satisfaction to love him like that. The way he'd looked at her as they'd made love had taken her breath away. He made the earth move for her. She inwardly cringed thinking how much she sounded like the trashy romance novels her mother owned. Still, something about Damon seemed to make every romantic cliché a possibility.

Damon rolled onto his side to look at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, trailing one finger over her stomach. "Are you still feeling sick?"

"Slightly queasy, on and off, but really I'm fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"What's on the menu?" she asked.

His grin set her insides quivering but she quickly reminded herself they still needed to talk.

"Damon…"

"I know,"

"We need to talk about…"

"Elena, I know." He turned onto his back to look at the ceiling. "I should have told you about Katherine a long time ago. Can we not talk about her on an empty stomach though?"

Elena hid her smile. She'd learned a while ago that her husband was quite the grouch when he was hungry.

"I feel like pizza," she told him.

"Pizza it is then."

Once the pizza arrived, they settled on the couch with their food and beer, her feet propped on his lap, and the pizza box balancing precariously on top of her feet. They usually ate out or sat at the dining table but sitting on the couch tonight felt right. With a roaring fire in front of them, it was intimate while being relaxed and informal. She found herself holding her breath soon enough, waiting for him to start filling her in. This had been a conversation she'd wanted to have for so long that she felt quite nervous about it finally happening. After a couple of minutes of silence and eating, Damon started to talk. He didn't look at her as he spoke; instead he chose to watch the fire.

"I met Katherine just after my father died. I'd assumed my position at the head of the company and I was enjoying the social opportunities it opened up to me. As the new eligible bachelor on the scene I was invited to many events among the rich and the bored and I went anywhere I could drum up more business. She was the daughter of one of the men at a function I was attending. For me it was love at first sight."

No matter how much she thought she was ready for it, it was harder than she had imagined hearing him talk about her, to hear him say it was love at first sight. The pain was swift and cut deep but she tried to focus on what he was saying.

He suddenly looked at her. "How much do you want to hear?"

"All of it," she told him. She didn't care if it hurt, for some odd and maybe perverse reason she wanted to know the exact details of her husband's most important relationship before her.

He nodded.

"The attraction was mutual. We were unable to keep our hands off each other and I fell hard for her. I was in so deep I couldn't see what was so blatantly obvious to everyone else. Even Mason warned me that she couldn't be trusted. He told me she came onto him, but I didn't believe him. He didn't speak to me for a couple of years after that."

He paused for a moment to take a swig of his beer. He looked at her again to see if she was taking it all in, absently stroking her feet. "Go on," she told him, eager to know more, and to get it over with.

"Several months into the relationship I asked her to move in with me and she readily accepted. I was blissfully happy. Work was going well; I was increasing our profit margins within a short time, and I believed that I'd found a woman who I would spend the rest of my life with. We talked about children and our future together and I ended up buying an engagement ring. Eight months was far too soon to think about marriage, but the fool I was couldn't imagine spending a day without her."

Elena felt her stomach clench as she thought of him wanting to spend his life with another woman.

"On the night I was going to propose, I came home early to organize things. As soon as I walked up the stairs, I knew she was there. I could hear her moans of satisfaction coming from the bedroom. As I walked towards the room, I could only think about what I would do to the man she was with; but when I walked in and saw that it was Stefan she was riding into the sunset I just walked straight back out again. In that moment, I wanted to kill both of them so badly that I had to leave the house straight away. I got in my car and started driving and as the anger increased so did my speed, I lost control of the car and spun out. Fortunately there was no one else around, but all I could think was, _what if I'd killed someone?_"

Her husband was lost inside the memory as he stared into the fire. She wanted to shake him out of it, but she wasn't sure if she should or not. She couldn't imagine what he'd felt when he saw Katherine and Stefan together; his brother and the woman he thought he'd marry. She wanted to kill the two of them for what they did to him. Or not kill, but hurt; she wanted to hurt them for the pain they'd caused her husband.

"She was pregnant," he said suddenly, shocking her. He turned to her again. "Even after everything, when I calmed down and she told me about the baby, I still wanted to marry her and raise the baby as mine. I didn't even care if it was Stefan's. I wanted her and the baby. I wanted the family that I'd longed for."

"What did she say?" Elena asked carefully, not even sure she wanted to know the answer.

His laugh was so empty that it made her feel cold despite the heat that the fire was giving out. "She told me she never wanted children, that she had no intention of ever becoming a mother."

"What happened with the baby?" She was afraid to ask, afraid she already knew the answer.

"She asked me for money to take care of the 'problem'."

Her heart ached for him, and she felt heavier all of a sudden as he shared his story with her.

"Then I asked her if she loved me. You know what she said?"

He was looking at her, but it was like he wasn't really seeing her. Elena shook her head.

"She never loved me. It was always Stefan. Then she told me that if I interfered in her relationship with my brother that she'd have the baby and make sure I never saw it, never held it. Her parents were rich and powerful and I believed she could do it. I wrote her a cheque and…tried desperately to forget about the unborn child and her."

Elena shuddered. She couldn't help it, and she couldn't stop herself from thinking that Damon had had a narrow escape from Katherine. The woman sounded like a cold, heartless bitch.

"Stefan and Katherine did break up though." she said to him.

Damon smiled, but the smile was still empty, still cold.

"He was worried that I'd cut him off."

"Would you have?"

"No, and I didn't. Today though, today I cut him off. He'll get the minimum allowance that Dad specified in his will, but that's it."

"Why?"

"Well one, he was threatening you, and two…what I just said."

"What was in the envelope?"

"You should know, you looked," he told her as he massaged her calf muscle gently.

"I only saw one of the photos," she told him.

"Then trust me, it's best you don't know." Damon said mysteriously.

"Why? Because then you'd have to kill me?" she joked.

"No, because seriously there's some pretty bad stuff in there that you really don't want to know about."

"How did you wind up with it?"

"Some of the photos and documents belonged to my father actually. He had a PI following us regularly. When I inherited the company I kept the PI on retainer and hit pay dirt on a couple of the shots she took."

He pulled her into his lap now, kissing her softly. She was glad to finally know about Katherine, but after hearing about her, she felt as if she'd been on an emotional rollercoaster. While she could understand why he didn't want to love again, Elena couldn't help thinking that Katherine had won. She'd taken everything from Damon, including his ability to love, and she hated that. She hated that this woman still seemed to hold so much power over him. Part of her wanted to shake him, and say don't you see what she's still doing to you, but she doubted Damon would see things that way. She had to hope that her love was enough to open his eyes.

"I just want you to know, Damon, that should I ever meet this Katherine woman, I'll set her straight on exactly what she's missing out on," Elena told him, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

Her husband looked at her, and she could see the hesitation in his eyes, the discomfort he was feeling.

"Funny you should say that," he said. "There's a charity ball next month. It's one of the biggest events of the year. I have to go, and I want you to come with me."

"Of course I'll go with you," she told him. Then she realized exactly what he was saying. "She's going to be there isn't she?"

"Unfortunately," he said, making a face.

She smiled at him reassuringly. "Bring it on," she told him. "You have no idea what I'm made of, Mister."

He smiled at her before he laid her back and smothered her in kisses. "You're amazing," he said to her. "Do you know that?"

She laughed; glad that she had been able to assure him she could handle it. Inside, however, she was having less luck convincing herself. Thinking about giving Katherine a piece of her mind was one thing; meeting her in the flesh was quite another. She felt slightly daunted by the fact that she was going to meet the one woman Damon had loved. Katherine sounded like a monster, and was it at all possible that her husband still had feelings for the woman? She felt jealousy slice through her as she asked herself the question. Even thinking the answer might be yes hurt like crazy. Her head started to spin and her stomach churned.

He must have seen her face change, because he sat up and looked at her. "Elena, are you okay?"

She sat up and put her hand on her stomach. "I'm fine, just a bit queasy still."

"That's it, tomorrow I'm taking you to the doctors, and I'm not taking no for an answer this time." His voice was filled both authority and concern.

It was then that it clicked for her. With her head so full of her plan to make Damon fall in love with her, she'd completely overlooked the fact that her monthly visitor was strangely absent. She was two days late. True, two days was nothing in the grand scheme of things, but she was _always_ on time, and she had been feeling sick.

"No," she told him, "tomorrow we're going to the store."

"The store? Why?" he asked.

"To buy something. Why else would you go to the store?"

"What exactly are we buying?"

"A pregnancy test," she told him with a grin.

* * *

A/N: So there you have it; Katherine! She's not my favorite character by any means. Damon has finally rid himself of Stefan, and Elena believes she might be in 'the John Hurt Way' (Coupling reference for anyone who likes that show as much as I do :) I know I didn't get to the ball in this chapter, but it does deserve its own chapter. I'm already hard at work on it, and am hoping to get it out to you ASAP.

To everyone who congratulated me on my pregnancy – thank you. Twelve hours after I uploaded my first chapter for this story I found out I was pregnant. I'm due in August for those who asked. With it being Australia Day today, and a public holiday, I was lucky enough to have my husband take our 16mo son off my hands so I could finish this chapter. Between the headaches and the puking I'm happy with the way the chapter came out. The last few weeks, when I've been up to my elbows in dirty diapers, I've enjoyed writing about the somewhat glamorous life of Mr and Mrs Salvatore.

I have to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. The response was CRAZY and it's the reason this update comes to you early. Of course I did think I would never outdo that chapter and briefly think of giving up and never writing again, but I was excited about Damon and Stefan's confrontation and I'm excited about the ball.

I'm thanking all of you who have come along for the ride and the journey with me. We're almost there now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading and please review.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Yay, I'm about to complete my first story! I had a 'ball' writing this. I laughed and I shed a couple of tears too. Well, I know you all have high expectations of this chapter. I do too. Without further ado, I present to you the final chapter of Locked In A Loveless Marriage.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

The three minutes they spent waiting for the results of the pregnancy test were the longest three minutes of his life. At least Elena put the test down in the bathroom and joined him outside of it so they could wait together. He knew it wasn't possible, but he thought he must have held his breath the whole time. Once his watch beeped that the time was up, Elena went in to retrieve the test. When she came out of the bathroom, she looked slightly disappointed. She showed it to him. There was a line in one window and a cross in the other.

"Doesn't the cross mean it's positive?" he asked her, unable to keep the frown off his face.

"Yup," she said with a grin. "We're pregnant. Congratulations, you're going to be a dad."

Words escaped him, but then when it came to Elena, the words always escaped him. He picked her up in his arms and twirled her around. She laughed and laughed until she told him to put her down because she was going to be sick.

Damon had never been happier. He could hardly believe that it had happened so soon. The best part for him, other than the fact that he was expecting to be a father, was that Elena seemed happy about it. She was as excited as he was that they were becoming parents and he found her enthusiasm just added to his own. It was early days yet, and they had a long way to go but he was over the moon.

Over the next few weeks her morning sickness worsened.

"It should be called all-day sickness," he'd grumbled more than once, since it never seemed like it was just the mornings where she was feeling ill.

Whenever he said that she would just smile at him and tell him that it was all going to be worth it. He knew it was true but it really took its toll on him seeing her so sick. He did everything he could to help, but it was easy to feel useless. What was ridiculous to him was that she was the one reassuring him that she was okay and everything was going well with the pregnancy. His wife was like no-one else he'd ever met.

He'd finally figured out that he was in love with her. For him it wasn't like one of those moments in the movies where the guy has a sudden epiphany and finally knows it without a doubt; no, it was a gradual awareness of what he'd been feeling all this time. Ever since Elena had opened up and told him how she felt about him, he wasn't trying to repress his own feelings and he allowed himself a little bit more time to think about what it was he was feeling. If he had to guess he would actually say he had loved her for some time. His feelings had been very deep since the beginning, and they had kept growing. He knew now those feelings were love.

Things were perfect between them, and he really wanted to tell her he loved her. She deserved to hear it. She was so patient with him, so understanding and so considerate that he never felt any pressure from her, but there was an internal pressure that was driving him to distraction. It was like he knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth. There had been so many perfect opportunities in the last three weeks to confess his undying love, but something was still holding him back and he didn't know what it was. Why couldn't he just say it? Why did he get a lump in his throat every time he went to tell her?

He puzzled over these questions as the two of them dressed for the ball. Elena had had her makeup and hair done downstairs earlier and now he helped her into her dress. He liked the dress. It was a royal blue gown with silver embroidery under the bust line and down the middle of the corset as well as around the skirt itself. She had blue matching gloves and a matching jacket. The only problem with the dress was that once he had her zipped up in it, he wanted to get her straight out of it again.

"Damon," she breathed, as he nuzzled her neck, kissing just under her ear.

"You look far too good in this," he told her. "You know blue is my favorite color."

"I do," she said, "that's why I chose it."

"So you are trying to drive me out of my mind."

She gave him a rather wicked look. "I may have thought about it once or twice."

Her words excited him. "If we don't leave now, we may not make it out the door at all."

"I'm not opposed to enjoying you all night in bed."

He groaned. Her libido matched his perfectly.

"I have to go to this, so for the first part of tonight you're only going to get to enjoy my dancing," he told her, wishing it wasn't the case at all.

"I suppose that's okay. Just remember when we're out there dancing that we could have been doing something else instead," she said, with a saucy smile.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling as she walked out of the room. She'd said that deliberately to keep him turned on all night. It worked. As he twirled her around the ballroom floor, all he could think about was how they could have been doing the horizontal tango in bed.

Elena laughed as she and Damon spun around the dance floor. She loved the fact that she had so much fun with him, and it helped that he was an exceptional dancer. Her man could move; in bed, out of bed, on the dance floor. She was also enjoying the fact that he wanted her. His lust for her was written all over his face, and as much as she wasn't proud to admit it, his need for her sexually gave her a sense of security. She'd thought so many times over the past few weeks that he'd been going to tell her he loved her, but the words hadn't come and she was blaming the pregnancy hormones for making her feel a tad insecure. Keeping him interested sexually was easing some of that insecurity and when they were intimate she felt as if he did love her.

Around an hour after they'd arrived, Katherine entered the ballroom. Elena felt apprehensive about how Damon would handle it, but to his credit, Damon barely did more than look up briefly as she made her entrance. Elena thought Katherine's date looked a little old for her, but he was still handsome. Grudgingly she admitted that Katherine herself looked stunning in a black gown. The gown looked a little short for this type of event, but Damon's ex-girlfriend made it look classy.

Luckily Katherine and her date stayed on the other side of the floor to them and eventually Elena relaxed enough to stop checking on their location, and started to enjoy herself again. After much dancing, and socializing in which she met many of Damon's acquaintances, she excused herself to go to the ladies.

As she washed her hands at the basin, she was joined by Damon's ex-girlfriend. Luckily, it wasn't Katherine.

"Hi Elena," Caroline said. Both the smile and the voice were friendly, so Elena decided she might just be okay.

"Hi Caroline." Elena was hoping to avoid one of those awkward conversations that people have when they don't know each other very well, but Caroline chatted away easily and soon the two girls found themselves laughing away together.

"I was so mad when he broke up with me," Caroline told her.

"I'm sorry,' Elena said.

"That's okay. Damon loves you."

Elena didn't want to correct her.

"I see the way he looks at you. Damon never looked at me like that, but then Damon never loved me. Katherine, that total stuck-up bitch, really screwed him up. I wanted him to love me, but he never could. Then I dated Stefan for a month. Can you believe that bastard cheated on me?"

"Yes," Elena said. "Yes, I can believe that."

"Tyler though, he's a real sweetie. In fact I think he might even love me. I think I might love him."

Caroline had a far away look in her eye and a large grin on her face that had Elena grinning back at her.

"You know, we should go and get some champagne and introduce Tyler and Damon to each other," she suggested, her voice full of excitement.

While Caroline was nice, Elena thought it might be a bit to soon for that sort of thing.

"I can't drink champagne," Elena told her, trying to politely decline.

"Why not?"

Elena was searching for an excuse when Caroline guessed.

"Oh my God, you're pregnant aren't you?" she practically squealed.

Elena didn't bother to deny it because she couldn't stop her own answering grin. Caroline jumped up and down and hugged her. The girl was so excited one might have thought she was the one who was pregnant.

"You two are going to have such cute babies. Have you thought of any names yet? Are you hoping for a boy or a girl? Are you going to find out the sex?"

Elena laughed at her enthusiasm. "It's still early days, Caroline. We're just taking it one day at a time."

"I know, it's just…"

When Caroline broke off mid sentence and stared past her, Elena turned around to see who she was looking at.

"Hello, Caroline," Katherine said as she sauntered towards both of them.

"Hi," Caroline mumbled.

Had Katherine been listening to their entire conversation? Elena hadn't seen her enter the bathroom, so she must have. Had she heard Caroline call her a bitch? She kind of hoped so.

This was Elena's moment to tell Katherine exactly what she thought of her and the atrocious way she'd treated her husband, but faced with the enemy, she found herself completely speechless.

"I don't think we've met," Katherine said to her, as she washed her hands.

"This is Elena Salvatore," Caroline told her proudly.

"Damon's wife," Katherine said with an eyebrow raised. She stepped back a little and very blatantly examined Elena from head to toe. "Did I hear you're pregnant, Elena?" Katherine asked her now.

She couldn't very well deny it if Katherine had heard everything. "Yes," she told her.

"Well congratulations. Damon has wanted a child for a very long time. It's nice to know he found himself a breeding cow."

"Excuse me," Caroline said, outraged on Elena's behalf. "She'd kick your but if she wasn't pregnant."

Katherine laughed. "I'd like to see her try."

Elena was very tempted to try, but instead settled for using her favorite weapon of choice; words.

"I'm not a breeding cow, as you so delightfully put it, Katherine; and having a baby is something very special. Not that I'd expect you to understand. Taking care of someone else is beyond your comprehension and abilities."

"Snap," Caroline said, clicking her fingers at the same time.

Katherine did not look amused. She walked right up to Elena.

"You think you're better than me? Hmm. Is that it?"

Elena took a step back. "I think Damon deserved better than what you did to him."

"Double snap," Caroline said, clicking her fingers twice.

Both Elena and Katherine glared at her. "Sorry," Caroline mumbled.

"Well," Katherine said, "I'm sure Damon appreciates you standing up for him, but truth be told the guy has always been in love with me, and I'm sorry to tell you this but he probably always will be."

"No," Caroline told her, "he loves Elena now. You are yesterday's news."

"Is that so?" Katherine asked Elena.

"Yes," Elena lied. "He loves me. He got over you a long time ago."

"That's very sweet and very naïve of you Elena. You know, you really don't look too sure about that. Let's play a game. Give me a three minute dance with your husband and then we'll see who he really loves."

"Damon would never dance with you," Caroline said with absolute conviction, but inside Elena just didn't have that same level of conviction.

"Three minutes," Katherine said, holding up three fingers. Then she walked out the bathroom door.

Elena closed her eyes, and hoped that somehow what Caroline said was the truth and Damon did love her, because if she went out there and found Katherine dancing with Damon, she thought her heart might just break.

Damon was starting to get concerned. His wife had left to use the bathroom fifteen minutes ago and she still hadn't returned. He hoped she wasn't in there throwing up. He started walking toward the bathroom when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Damon,"

Damon turned around to see who it was that had clapped him on the back. "Mr Barroway, how are you?" Damon asked, shaking hands with the elderly gentleman. The Barroways were a very powerful family and Damon had been after their business for years.

"Please, call me Jim. I had the pleasure of speaking with your wife earlier," Mr Barroway told him. "I have to say, she is just lovely. I don't know where you've been keeping her, but we must have dinner sometime. If you have the good taste to marry her then I know I can trust you with our money."

"Well, thank you Mr Barroway…I mean Jim. I'll have my assistant call you."

"Do that," Jim told him, "I can't wait to find out more about your gem of a wife."

The old man left him. Damon was shocked; Elena had just landed him the Barroway account. She was absolutely incredible. He couldn't wait to tell her the good news. As he walked towards the bathroom he was intercepted by Katherine. Her sudden appearance caught him off guard and she used the moment to slip into his arms and put her arms around his neck.

"Damon," she purred, "I thought we could dance for old time's sake."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested," Damon told her, trying to remove her arms from around his neck. He wanted to tell his wife he loved her, not dance with the worst mistake of his life. Katherine, however, would not let go of him. She clung tightly, even when he tried to pry her away. She made a noise and he saw people starting to turn their heads and look at them.

"Don't make a scene, Damon," she told him sternly.

He glared at her. He had nothing to say to her and had no idea why on earth she would want to dance with him.

"What do you want, Katherine?"

"I just had the pleasure of meeting your wife in the bathroom."

She had his attention. "What did you say to her?"

She pouted. "Why would you assume I said anything to her?"

"If you said anything to upset her, I'll…"

"You'll do what, Damon? You won't do anything; you're all talk."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, especially when it comes to my wife," he told her.

"So protective, aren't you?"

He wasn't interested in playing her game.

"We were good together," she told him.

"No, we weren't. You lied, and I thought you were someone you weren't."

"Not everything was a lie, Damon. There's still an attraction between us. Don't you feel it?"

"Honestly, Katherine, the only thing I feel when I'm with you is shame and regret. Shame that I let myself get you pregnant, and regret that I'll never meet that child."

Elena walked out of the bathroom after assuring Caroline that she didn't care if three minutes were up or not, she wanted to get back to her husband. She hated how insecure she felt, but she had to find out if he still loved Katherine. As soon as she saw him dancing with her, she felt a jealousy so white and hot it felt like someone was ripping her apart on the inside. She stood frozen to the spot for a moment watching them; watching the way they glided across the floor, Katherine's arms around his neck, the two of them pressed together. She wanted to sob; she wanted to die.

"Elena," she heard Caroline say softly. An arm went around her. Elena couldn't look at Caroline. "Don't let her win," Caroline said.

No, she couldn't let Katherine win. Tonight she may have lost the fight, but she hadn't lost the war, not yet.

When the music stopped, Damon tried again to shake himself free of Katherine.

"One more dance," she told him quickly. "Or will it cause trouble between you and your wife?"

"Is that your intention?" he asked her. "Did you come here tonight to cause trouble?"

"No, it wasn't my intention, but it has been fun nevertheless."

"What do you mean? What have you done?"

Elena approached Damon and Katherine with single-minded determination. Instead of feeling white hot jealousy, Elena was now seeing red hot rage. She tapped Katherine on the shoulder.

Katherine turned around and seeing Elena standing there, she smiled a rather smug smile. In that moment Elena wanted nothing more than to wipe that smile off her face.

"Katherine, I think your date is looking for you. I overheard a man talking about a selfish slut who tried to sleep with all his friends."

"Ouch," Katherine said. "I suppose it must hurt to know I'm right."

"Right about what?" Damon asked. Elena didn't bother to answer him. He could wait as far as she was concerned.

"Were you? If you were right you wouldn't be going home alone tonight."

"What are you talking about?" Katherine looked confused.

Elena pointed to Katherine's date on the far side of the ballroom. The man looked disgusted.

"I've just had an interesting conversation with your date. He didn't know that you gave my ex-boyfriend gonorrhea, but what he does know is that you have trouble keeping your hands to yourself."

She could see Damon's confused expression out of the corner of her eye.

"That's very clever of you, Elena. It's a pity I don't believe you though."

"Well, why is he walking out right now then?" Elena waved her hand, and shooed Katherine away. Then she launched herself into her husband's arms and began to dance with him so that Katherine had no choice but to talk to her back if she was going to say anything. Elena hoped Katherine would simply leave them be. She was feeling so fragile right now that she didn't think she could take another minute of Katherine's company. She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a foot stomp before she saw Katherine go after her date.

Damon had watched the exchange quietly, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. He would have enjoyed Elena's one-upmanship of Katherine had he not been able to tell that his wife was extremely upset. There was murder in his wife's brown eyes, and it wasn't all aimed at his ex-girlfriend. Elena was angry with him; furious, judging by the look on her face. He felt the waves of rage just rolling off her. It made his gut knot. He'd never seen her so angry before, not even after their wedding. Her eyes glittered dangerously as they clashed with his and that's when he saw it; there was pain in her eyes. She was hurting. Was she upset because he'd been dancing with Katherine?

"Elena," he started.

"Don't, Damon. Not here and not now."

Elena desperately hoped Damon wouldn't say another word, because if he said anything to her right now she was likely to fall apart in his arms. She looked at a spot on the wall on the far side of the ballroom, trying her hardest not to cry. She wouldn't fall apart; not here. She wouldn't give Katherine the satisfaction, even though she was hurting like hell. She couldn't look at her husband as she danced with him, couldn't bear to see what was on his face. Loving someone who didn't love her was one thing; but loving someone who was in love with someone else was quite another. She would see out tonight if it was the last thing she did; and then she had to decide what to do next.

Damon couldn't stand to see the look of anguish on his wife's face. He wanted to tell her that Katherine had forced the dance, and he hadn't wanted any part of it. Instead, and despite her protests, he grabbed her hand and dragged her across the ballroom, to the bathroom. He locked them in, ready to try and reason with his wife and make her understand what had happened with Katherine, but surprisingly Elena started talking the moment the door was shut.

"How could you dance with _her_?"

His wife was literally shaking with anger.

"I didn't want to dance with her, I was trying to avoid a scene after she threw her arms around me and wouldn't let go." He said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He didn't like where this was going. She was so angry and so emotional that he was afraid of what she was thinking, afraid she had completely the wrong idea.

"You still have feelings for her," his wife accused, her voice trembling.

How could she possibly think he still cared for Katherine in any way? His wife's jealousy gave him no satisfaction, no pleasure, no amusement, because it meant she had no idea how he felt about her. Because if she did know what she meant to him, she would never doubt him; she wouldn't feel insecure or threatened by Katherine. She would know that she was everything to him, and she would know that she was the only woman he wanted for the rest of his life. Katherine meant nothing to him, and Elena meant everything, and he hadn't told her that.

"Elena," he said, approaching her slowly.

"Don't," she said quickly, holding her hands up as in telling him to stop. "I don't want to hear it. I know you care about me, and I know I said it didn't matter if you don't love me. But I was wrong," she whispered. "It does matter."

Her words slipped past his last defense and made his heart ache. His inability to move past whatever it was that was holding him back was hurting her badly. He did love her and he had to tell her. No excuses, no nothing; if he couldn't share his feelings with her, he was going to lose her. The thought was enough to bring those last remaining walls he'd built come crashing down.

She went to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm swinging her around, so that they were just inches apart.

"No Elena, you don't understand. You can't understand how I feel about you because I've never told you. I've never been able to find the words to tell you what you mean to me, but I'm going to try now, because I can't lose you."

He cupped her beautiful face between his hands now so she had to look at him.

"I love you, Elena." He paused for a moment, wanting to let those words sink in for both of them. "I know those words have been a long time coming, and I'm sorry you had to wait so long to hear me say them, but you have to believe me when I tell you that now that I know them I will never forget them. I love you, and if you left me today or tomorrow or ten years down the track, inside I'd die without you."

Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears but he couldn't bring himself to stop. After spending weeks searching inside himself; searching for the words to tell her how he felt, he'd finally found them all and now they were just sitting there waiting to be said. He couldn't turn them off. He took one of her hands and put it over his heart, covering her hand with both of his. His eyes never left hers.

"This heart; it beats for you. You make me a better man and I don't even want to _think_ about who'd I'd be without you. You are everything to me. You are my light; you are my hope and Elena, you are my destiny."

He watched as the tears spilled out onto her cheeks. God, she was crying and his heart was breaking as he wiped her tears away. Did she understand yet? Did she get that she was his entire reason for being?

"I would do anything for you, Elena. I _need_ you. It's you, and it's always going to be you for the rest of my life. Please tell me you understand."

She was silent, but the tears were still sliding down her cheeks.

"I promise you this," he told her, "there will never be another day in this lifetime that you won't know how I feel about you. I will tell you every day how much you mean to me; how much this marriage means to me."

Elena sniffled slightly and tried to pull herself together. This moment was one she'd hoped for, waited for, and now that it was finally here she was a mess – she was moved to tears. He loved her, and she hadn't even realized how much she needed to know that, to hear that, and for it to be true until tonight.

"Okay," she told him.

"Okay?"

"Okay, you better tell me that every day."

He smiled. "I will." Then he kissed her, a kiss that told her he meant everything he'd just said.

* * *

"She has your nose," Damon told Elena.

"Well, she has your hair," Elena told him.

Damon reached into the bassinet and stroked their baby girl's hand. She gurgled and grabbed his finger, looking straight into his eyes. His daughter, Olivia Grace Salvatore had been born four days early, after a twenty-three hour labour. The moment his daughter had been placed in his arms would be forever imprinted in his memory. He'd cried. It was the only time he'd ever cried in his life, and Elena would never let him forget that, but he didn't care. The moment had been pure magic, and his daughter, well she was completely perfect.

A year ago he'd thought he'd never love again, now he felt as if his heart and his life were just bursting with it. He was quickly realizing that there was no limit to the love he could feel. When his daughter had been born it was like his heart had grown and expanded to accommodate all the extra love he would feel for his child. His capacity for loving was just growing and growing. He knew he owed so much of that to his wife.

Olivia closed her eyes now, and Damon slid his finger out of her grasp.

"She's so beautiful," Elena said.

Damon had to agree, Olivia Salvatore was picture perfect, but could he expect anything different when his wife was the picture of beauty herself? Elena had glowed the whole way throughout the pregnancy, and even now, he thought she was stunning. Motherhood agreed with her. She seemed to have taken to it like a duck to water. He'd always known she would. Her instinct was to love and nurture others and it was one of the many, many things he loved about his wife.

The two of them wandered out of the nursery quietly and took a seat in front of the fire. She put her feet on his lap, and he found himself rubbing her feet.

He wasn't the perfect husband by any means, but he tried to be. He made mistakes but Elena was quick to bring him up to speed when he put a foot wrong. He was still learning how to love someone and their marriage was a work in progress that he would never take for granted. She was his best friend, the love of his life and he loved her more and more everyday.

"I love you, Elena," he told her now.

Elena looked at the man who was giving her the best foot massage in the world. He had kept his promise and then some. He told her every day that he loved her, but his actions spoke volumes of his love for her. She couldn't help but feel adored, pampered and appreciated every day. If she had ever been locked in a loveless marriage, as Stefan had suggested, she certainly wasn't anymore. Their marriage, their family, their house was full of love. Elena couldn't help thinking that everything about the journey that had led them here had been worth it. Their love was one that would last forever.

The End

* * *

A/N: This has truly been an incredible journey for me. I want to thank you all for coming along for the ride with me. I have loved writing this and it has been a challenge every step of the way, because I haven't wanted to disappoint any of you. Your support has been AMAZING. Thank you to every single person who has been reading this fic, added me to their alerts and this story to their favorites. I _know_ how lucky I am that so many of my readers took the time to review this story.

Damon and Elena as a married couple were a lot of fun to write about. I will write another story about them being married, but that is in the distant future. I don't think I took every opportunity I could have in this story, but I did what I felt was right at the time and it ended up being about 50,000 words I think. M&B are usually between 50,000 and 57,000 words so I wasn't too far off the mark there. I'd love to have a M&B with my name on it one day.

Until the baby comes I intend to write like there is no tomorrow. I have two complete stories planned to finish before August. I uploaded the first chapter to one of them yesterday; it's called Dark and Dangerous Desires. It is another AU. I've realized while I've been writing LIALM that I am not one of the many VERY talented writers on here who can write more than one story at a time. That said, the final chapter to Friendship on Ice is nearing completion and I have a one-shot that I would like to publish on here at one stage. It's complete but my husband thinks it's crap. He NEVER tells me something is crap, so it must be bad. I'm still playing with that one.

Before October 2010, when I joined this website, I hadn't written seriously since 2004. I feel like I'm finally starting to shake off the cobwebs and rust and find my voice. I'm still making mistakes, but it's all about the journey right? I'm crazy about romance and with the couple of stories I have planned, I intend to completely play around with classic romantic formula. My new AU is a bit of a romantic comedy, we'll see how that goes since I'm not the funniest person you'll ever meet, but I'm excited about it anyway.

Now that I've talked your ear off (are you getting the impression that I don't want this fic to end yet? :( ) I want to thank you all again. Thanks also to a friend who ran her eye over several of these chapters for me, and took the time to tell me when I made a mistake in my other chapters. You're awesome.

Lots of Love (because the world could always use more)

LoveEpicLove


End file.
